#we just threw the whole dean in the trash

[deanwastherealmonster]

PSA: Dean punching Sam after Meg was exorcised in 2x14 was not a cute or funny thing. Sam had just gone through the harrowing and horrifying experience of being possessed, and the first thing that happens after he's freed is having the person he loves and trusts the most in the world punch him in the face. Face punching is nothing to sneer at. You can kill someone by punching them in the face, even once. Snap their neck, or break a bone and drive it into their brain. Probably other things. It was a horrible thing for Dean to do.

#anti dean winchester #dean critical #can we just throw dean away? #oh wait we did #we just threw the whole dean in the trash #dean is rotting #dean was the real monster of that show #team rusty nail #team amy's son gets the revenge he promised dean

[julieverne]

Jane's broken up with men for a lot of stupid reasons.

For Joey it was cheating off her test. And calling her frog face.

For Steve it was the movie he chose.

For Martinez it was getting her CI killed. Not just that, but physically preventing her from going after her when she could have made a difference.

For Dean it was making her shoot Maura's father. For making Maura hate her, however brief that hate might have been. She wished Paddy had killed him. Still does sometimes, when she remembers the anger and hurt on Maura's face. Sometimes she wishes she'd shot him instead of Paddy for setting that whole thing up. For using her to get a lead.

But for Casey it was because he threw out the Marmite.

"Maura gave me that," Jane said, digging through the trash can, looking for that flash of yellow that always brightened her day.

"I got you a new one. One that's not expired," Casey said, putting it on the counter as though that made anything any better.

"Where is it?"

"I took the garbage out after you left this morning. It's gone." The congenial smile left his face, followed by concern.

"I told you not to touch it. Get out." Jane opens the door and watched as he packed quickly. She locked the door behind her, heading for the back of the building.

"I'm sorry," he called after her, but she was already vaulting into the dumpster.

---

When Maura's hand tapped the side of the dumpster, Jane's head popped over the edge, still scowling.

"Frankie said you needed Marmite," Maura said, holding up a jar. Jane shook her head, disappearing, rustling through the trash like a racoon. Occasionally Maura heard the thump of Jane hitting the dumpster in anger, or her swearing at touching something gross. "If I call Frankie, you know he's going to jump in." Jane's head appeared, filthy but excited.

"Yeah, call him. He's real good with trash. Oh. OH!" Jane disappeared again, coming up triumphantly with a jar of Marmite clenched in her hand. "YEAH!" Jane yelled, her adrenaline pumping. Maura moved forward to help her out of the dumpster, then stepped back. She grabbed a hose on the side of the building, taking the Marmite with a glove from her bag before hosing off Jane, arms spread wide and face turned to the sky, smile on her face without a care in the world.

Jane left puddles in the hall. Maura shoved her in the shower fully dressed, then went out to mop up after her so the HOA didn't try to kick her out again.

Jane came out in a towel using a second towel to dry her hair, occasionally sniffing herself.

"I think I'm clean. Am I clean?" Maura leaned forward and sniffed Jane, giving an impressed smile. "Okay I'm clean. Which isn't saying much because half the time we both smell like a deco." Jane threw herself on the couch. Maura had picked up some disinfectant wipes and started cleaning the original jar of Marmite, sitting beside Jane.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jane groaned and turned away.

"He threw out my stuff, Maura, there's nothing to talk about."

"Frankie said Casey said you kept yelling that I gave it to you, and how dare he. He's staying with Frankie, by the way. He seems to think you broke up with him over Marmite."

"Not the Marmite." Jane sighed. "I leave it on the counter so I see it every day. So I remember that no matter what godawful kind of day I've had, you're my friend again. That we're still friends. The little flash of yellow makes me think maybe it's not so bad. That I'm not so bad. It's like... forgiveness? Absolution? Something. It's stupid, but it's something you gave me. You get it, don't you? And it felt like he was throwing you away. It told him not to, and he did it anyway, in my house. It was really disrespectful, and I don't take disrespect. Not any more. It felt like he was trying to replace you. It made my skin crawl."

"So you went dumpster diving for two hours? Jane. I have spare Marmite. I've given you lots of things over the years. Why the Marmite?" She tilted her head, genuinely curious. Jane looked down at her hands.

"It was the first thing you gave me. After Hoyt. We were just getting to be friends. You were opening my jars for me. And you gave me this." Jane picked it up and looked at it. "And you said I'd be able to open it myself one day, and if I never did then you'd do it for me. And I never opened it because I knew I could call you. And you'd come. You'd be here, and you'd open it. When we were fighting I moved it to my bedside table and I stared at it every night. But I never called."

"I would have come," Maura admitted. "I didn't realise you'd attached so much significance to such an unassuming object."

"It's a metaphor or something, right? A simile?"

"Symbolic," Maura corrected her gently. Jane shot her a grin, picking up the jar. "Don't," Maura said when Jane reached for the lid.

"Why not?"

"If it's a symbol, let it be a symbol. So you know, any time you need me. You can call. And I'll come. Even if it's to open your expired Marmite. It's a promise, Jane, and I take those seriously." Jane shrugged, trying to hide her smile, and grabbed the new jar, twisting the top off easily, dipping her finger in.

"Oh YUCK! That is rank, Maura." Jane gagged.

"You were in a dumpster for two hours and you regularly hang out with corpses. You can handle a little Marmite."

"It wasn't about the Marmite," Jane admitted, looking over at Maura. "It just made me think he was trying to make room for himself in my life by getting rid of you. And nothing is ever going to get you out of my life. Not Casey, not Hoyt, not Dennis. No one. Nothing. You know that, don't you?"

Maura wet her lips with her tongue nervously.

"What if I said I was jealous of Casey?"

"I'm done with Casey. You don't need to be jealous of him. You won't walk in on us again." Jane shot Maura a nervous grin. "We can jog whenever you like."

"No, Jane, I mean - I wasn't just jealous of him taking up your time. I was jealous because -" Maura bit her thumbnail and looked at it absently. "Because he got to be with you. He got to date you. He got to -" Maura blinked rapidly and looked away, grabbing her bag and getting to her feet.

"Maura." Jane's low voice stopped her. Made her turn back to the couch to see Jane's anguished face. "I wouldn't spend two seconds in a dumpster for anything he gave me," Jane admitted.

"Okay," Maura said slowly. "So where does that leave us?"

"I've been trying to figure that out for a while." Jane screwed the cap back on the Marmite and put it down, making a decision and getting to her feet. She strode over to Maura in two short steps and kissed her.

They'd kissed before, on the cheek. Both cheeks when Maura was feeling cosmopolitan. But never quite on the mouth. Circling, perhaps, drawing closer every time. But Jane, emboldened by her near loss of something incredibly important, went for it, pressing her lips to the soft mouth she watched so often, feeling Maura open up to her, hearing Maura's purse drop to the floor.

"You taste terrible," Maura said when Jane pulled away. Her face and chest were flushed, and her hand was on Jane's ass under the towel.

"I taste like Marmite," Jane said, quirking her eyebrow and leaning in again.

---

Casey always maintained that Jane had broken up with him over a stupid jar of Marmite, but Jane knew that she had a good reason. The best reason.

She had Maura.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzoli & isles #maura isles #jane rizzoli #rizzles fanfic

[isolavirtuosa]

That River in Egypt 1-7 of 21

[fanfiction] Dean / Cass

canon divergent AU from 15x19, Dean being Dean

- 1 -

“Mistakes were made,” I mumbled into the warm back of the stranger I was naked in bed with.  I knew as soon as I opened my eyes that my head was gonna explode, so I decided not moving was the best option.

The warm body shifted.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” I hummed, hand running down an impressively toned tummy, enjoying the feel of soft skin over hard muscle.

My partner let out a contented sigh, and I found my hand moving lower.

Fingers moved through coarse hair before idly stroking.

“Dean,” she breathed out, but there was something not quite right.

I started stroking with more intent, feeling her thicken.  My breath started escaping in heated pants.

“Dean,” she moaned, and there was definitely something not right.

My eyes started to flutter open, pain shooting through my head.

The familiar feel of memory foam under me, the dark lighting of the bunker...

My hand slowed.

I would never bring a stranger here.

I would never bring a...

I let go, skittering out of bed like a frightened child.

“W-who...” I started to stammer, but I already knew the answer.

Women didn’t usually have low, gravelly voices.

Or dicks, for that matter.

Cass sat up, looking at me with a weird mix of confusion and arousal.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I blurted out, continuing to back away from the bed until I hit the wall.

“Do what?” he asked, his voice coming out almost like a growl with how rough it was.

“Uh… you know, uh…” I trailed off, before squeaking out, “why are you in my bed?”

Cass frowned.  “Do you not remember last night?”

“Not really, no.”

His frown deepened.  “Dean.”

I stared at him helplessly, feeling his disappointment in me like it was a physical thing.

“You assured me-” he started to say, then shut his mouth and looked away, clenching his jaw.

Oh, fuck, what had Drunk Dean done?  Because Hungover Dean had a headache and a pissed off naked angel in his bed with no idea how any of this had come to be.

That wasn’t entirely true.

I was trying to tell myself that there was a reasonable (a.k.a. non-sexual) explanation for all this, but…

There were flashes.

There were also a number of used condoms tied off in the trash can.

Jesus Christ.

“We didn’t…” I tried.

“We did,” he replied flatly.

“Okay, but we didn’t…”

“We had sex, Dean.”

“Okay, but… why?”

Cass threw the covers aside and got out of bed, gathering up his clothes from the floor.

He was pissed.

Also, he was very naked.

Not that I was noticing how fantastic his ass looked as he bent over to grab his shirt.

The guy was in great shape; who wouldn’t want to look like that?  That’s all I was doing, experiencing a little body envy and all that.  The burgers and the booze hadn’t been kind to my waistline lately, but Cass could put away anything and still look amazing.

You know, amazing in an objective kind of way.

In the blink of an eye, Cass was fully clothed, and I finally realized that I’d been naked the whole time, too, which had been fine when we were both naked, but now that it was just me, it seemed kind of awkward.

I subtly rested my hands in front of my junk.

Couldn’t really hide the love handles.

Not that Cass would notice.  Or care.

Except that we apparently had sex last night, and regret seemed to be the opposite of why he was pissed.

Cass was attracted to me.

Cass thought I was fuckable, love handles and all.

It was kind of a nice thought, besides that fact that it was terrifying and something we just needed to not bring up ever again.

Because this was definitely not going to happen again.

I’d been drunk, and I was always flirty when I was drunk, and one thing had led to another, but-

“I’m leaving, Dean.”

I was startled out of my denials by reality.  “What?”

“I do not stay where I’m not wanted.”

“You’re wanted!” I blurted out, then immediately backtracked.  “Sam-”

“Dean,” he said, and oh boy, was he disappointed in me.

“No, look man, I didn’t…” I trailed off, having no idea where I was going.  “Let me get dressed and uh take a few Advil, and then, you know, we can… talk?” I suggested, trying not to cringe too hard at the word.

“If you can fit me into your busy schedule,” he said coldly.

“It ain’t like that,” I complained.

“I didn’t mean to inconvenience you,” he continued, relentless.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to get my shit together.  Then I realized I’d left the family jewels on display.

“I’ve had it in my mouth, Dean,” Cass said, sounding very unimpressed.

I blinked at him slowly.

He shot a look towards my crotch area before letting his eyes drag back up my body to meet mine.  He raised an eyebrow, still frowning.

I had one of those flashes, and it involved Cass’s mouth stretching wide and blue eyes staring up at me, and that just wasn’t something that I should be thinking about.  Ever.  It wasn’t hot.  It absolutely wasn’t.  Fuck.  Change the subject.  “Did you like it?” I blurted out, and then wanted to kick myself.

He squinted at me like I was an idiot.  “Yes.”

“Oh, uh…” I trailed off.  “Did I?”

“Yes,” he said, exasperated, because yeah, okay, who wouldn’t like a mouth on their dick?  A mouth’s a mouth and all that.

Something occurred to me.

“So did I…” I hesitated.  “What did I… do?”

There was that squint again.  “You ejaculated.”

I sputtered at that word picture.  “No, uh, no, I mean… to, ya know, pay you back.”

“No money was exchanged.”

I was pretty sure he was fucking with me now.  “I’m asking if I…” I trailed off, making a vague blow job gesture near my mouth.

“No, you did not sing karaoke.”

“Castiel.”

“Are you asking for a… ‘play-by-play’ of our sexual encounter?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure, that’s one way a puttin’ it.”

Cass sighed loudly.  “I performed fellatio on you.  I found it enjoyable.  You enjoyed it to the point of ejaculation.  Then you proceeded to ‘jerk’ me ‘off’.  We both found it satisfactory.”

“Oh,” I said.  ‘Satisfactory’ wasn’t very high praise.  Then again, repaying a blow job with a hand job didn’t seem very… gentlemanly.  “I didn’t…”

Cass waited for me to continue.

“I mean, that’s it?” I asked, rubbing my hand along my jaw.  I’d thought it was kind of sore, but that was probably my overactive imagination, trying to create boogeyman where there were none.

“No.”

Now it was my turn to wait for Cass to continue.

He did not.

“Ya gonna keep me in suspense here?”

“Do you really not remember?” he asked with a frown.

“I uh….”

He stared harder.  “Sam?  The nachos?”

“What the hell does Sam have to do with it?!” I asked nervously.

“We had fallen asleep, and then Sam dropped the plate of nachos in the kitchen,” Cass explained, which explained nothing.

Except…

The crash startling me awake.

Cass laughing as I suggested stealing Sam’s nachos.

Sam yelling at us groggily, friggin’ lightweight that he was.

Then…

Oh…

No, that couldn’t be….

“After we absconded with the bag of tortilla chips and consumed a large amount, we resumed love-making and performed mutual fellatio on each other.”

“You could just say ‘sixty-nine’.”

“Sixty-nine.”

“See?  Much better.”

Cass’s squint seemed to intensify.

Kinda reminded me of his o-face.

Oh, fuck, there were visuals.  Lots and lots of visuals.

Cass sighed loudly.  “Dean.  Get dressed and take your Advil.”

I bit my lip, very confused about how I was feeling but definitely worried that Cass was going to leave mad and never come back again.  “So you’re just gonna leave,” I said, and it came out sounding more like an accusation than the plea it actually was.

“Yes, Dean, goodbye.”

I had my mouth open, ready to stop him, but he was already gone.

“Sonuva bitch,” I muttered, starting to hunt around for some clothes to put on before it all seemed like too much effort and I just threw on the dead-guy robe.  “Fucking Cass,” I muttered, but suddenly that took on whole new connotations.  With visuals.

Nope, nope, nope.

I found a bottle of pain relievers and dumped some in my hand, swallowing them dry before tossing the bottle back on the floor.  I dragged myself to the kitchen, found I had no desire to continue moving, and flopped down at the kitchen table.

“You’re an asshole, you know,” Sam grumbled as he came lumbering in.

I tensed.  What did Sam know?

“Corrupting Cass like that,” he continued, opening the fridge but then groaning as the light met his eyes.

Oh, Jesus, he knew.  He knew, and he was gonna-

“He doesn’t even eat food, so clearly he took my chips for you,” he complained, grabbing the juice and quickly closing the door.

“Who says Cass took your chips?” I asked, feeling like I was on more even footing now.

“The flap of his wings while I was cleaning up the floor.”

“Coulda been a bird.”

“Really, Dean?  A bird?  In the bunker?”

“Crazier shit has happened,” I said with a shrug.

“Not cool,” Sam grumbled, clunking a cup on the counter.

“He was probably just trying to help you,” I said, going for another tactic.  “I mean, eating nachos at 3 a.m., man?  Think of your girlish figure.”

“Not cool,” Sam repeated, then ended up spilling half his juice on the counter in a failed attempt to pour it in the cup.

I snorted, but that made my head hurt more.

“Where is he anyway?” Sam asked, wiping the counter with a sponge.  “Figured he’d be just as miserable as us this morning after that liquor store he drank.”

Oh, yeah.  How this whole damn mess got started.

“So you wanna say that I’m ‘corrupting’ Cass, when you’re the one who got a friggin’ angel drunk.”

“I didn’t think he would take me literally-”

“He takes everything literally, Sam!”

Sam had been sipping his juice slowly like it pained him to swallow, but he took the cup from his lips, looking thoughtful.  “Okay, fair enough,” he agreed.  “I shouldn’t have carelessly suggested that Cass drink a liquor store.”

“You’re damn right ya shouldn’t of.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.”

Goddamn it, did he know?

“You better send Cass out to buy more Tostitos,” he added.

I mean, all three of us had been drunk off our asses.  Some grateful richy rich couple had lavished us with bottles of champagne after we rescued them from the monster of the week, and apparently it really did get you drunk fast, even when you may have previously believed you were no longer capable of getting drunk…

Anyway it was a nice kinda drunk where we were all laughing over anything and everything, and then Sammy said he was going to bed, so Cass said… something about watching… cat videos?  On YouTube?  So we went to my room and…

Blue eyes staring up at me, mouth stretched wide, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Sam was giving me a weird look.

“Cass’ll get right on those nachos,” I said smoothly.  Nothing to see here.

Sam looked at me for a long moment, then shrugged and took his cup to the sink.

He didn’t know.  How could he know?  If he knew, there’s no way he would play it this cool.

We were safe.

We’d gotten away with it.

Everything could go back to normal.

- 2 -

Cass didn’t come back to the bunker for almost two weeks.

Not that this was anything new; he was always pulling a disappearing act.  Though apparently he was texting Sam.

He just wasn’t texting me.

So it was perfectly justifiable that I jumped out of my skin when he appeared beside my recliner in the Dean Cave.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, making my name sound like a curse.

“Hello yourself,” I complained, trying to play it cool like I hadn’t just leapt from my seat and made an unseemly shriek.

“Were you not expecting me?” he asked, sounding a little too sassy for my liking.

“You haven’t been here for weeks!”

“Since we had sex?” he suggested, the sass just sassing up to whole new levels.

“Cass!” I protested, eyes darting around the room nervously even though I knew Sam was out with Eileen.

“I’m sorry, are we still not talking about it?” he asked.

He was definitely not sorry.

“I mean, ya don’t hafta go announcing it,” I complained.

The little shit actually cupped his hands around his mouth and boomed, “we had sex!”

“You’re being an asshole.”

“I feel like that’s my prerogative.”

“Okay, Bobby Brown,” I muttered.  “Live your life.”

“Dean,” he said, and it came out long-suffering.

I finally dared to look him in the eye, and that was a mistake.

He looked weary, and I was the one who put that expression on his face.

“I missed you,” I blurted out.

His eyes softened.  “I missed you, too.”

“So can we just go back to normal?”

His expression darkened again.  “‘Normal’,” he repeated like it was a dirty word.

“What the hell’s wrong with normal?” I shot back.

“I’m not going to pretend that nothing happened.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to.”

“That’s exactly what you’re asking.”

“I’m not…” I tried, and gave up.  “Fine, maybe I am.  But what’s wrong with that?  What’s wrong with how things were?”

He just stared at me, all frowny and disappointed.

I knew that I was messing this up, I just didn’t know how to not mess it up.  “Cass,” I said, giving him what was probably an incredibly pathetic look.

He scowled at me, then looked away.  “It meant something to me.”

Oh, shit, oh, shit, he was gonna leave.  I had to say something, something not stupid or offensive, or he was going to leave and not come back.

I was maybe starting to panic a little.

Or a lot.

“Dean.”

And I had maybe been sitting there not saying anything for a while.  My eyes snapped to Cass’s.

He cupped my cheek with his hand and then he leaned in.

Oh shit was he gonna…?

He pressed his lips to my forehead.

That felt… nice.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

He gave me a rueful smile.  “I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?” I asked, squinting at him.  “Pretty sure I’m the asshole here.”

“Probably,” he agreed, a little sparkle in his eyes.  At least we were back to joking.  “But I should have… it was wrong of me not to speak to you all this time.”

“Oh.”

He ran his thumb down my cheek before pulling his hand away.

His hand was kinda big.  Solid.  Comforting.

Not that I wanted to follow after it.

“I was hurt, but… I understand,” he finally said, and he looked guilty now.  “The things you said when you were intoxicated were simply ‘the alcohol talking’, and I should not have taken… advantage of you.”

What the hell had I said to him that made him think I wanted to have sex?  With him?  Multiple times?

And yet as much as I wanted to claim that I didn’t remember anything, okay, that was actually a complete lie.

Dean Winchester didn’t get blackout drunk.  And I’d had plenty of time over the last couple of weeks to think about that night.

About how I’d thrown myself at Cass.

I want you, I’d whispered into his ear when all we’d been doing was watching stupid animal videos on YouTube.

There was no spark, no cause, no reason at all, just me being drunk and horny.

And Cass, drunk as he was, had tried to stop it.

Cass, with his feelings.

Cass, who was completely unused to being drunk, being out of control, had pushed against my chest, said something along the lines of, I don’t want this if you don’t feel the same, and then…

Well there was no use dwelling on it, right?

Yeah, Cass, yeah, me, too…

Lying to an angel.  I was going to hell.

Again.

‘Lying’.

Nope, nope, nope, we just needed to forget this whole thing and move on.

“Look, man, it’s cool,” I informed him magnanimously.

His gaze narrowed.

“I got an extra brew,” I said, reaching into the cooler next to the couch and pulling it out.  “The Untouchables is on,” I added, gesturing towards the TV which I’d been watching before Cass had shown up.  “Movie night?”

Cass didn’t answer for what seemed to me like an uncomfortably long period of time.

The bottle started to sweat in my hand as I continued to hold it out to him.

“Dean, do you understand that I want you sexually?” he finally asked.

I tried to come up with something clever to say, came up blank, and I was pretty sure my face was beet red.  “Yeeessss?”

He breathed out a loud sigh.  “That doesn’t bother you?”

“…nooo…?”

“So sitting next to you, watching a movie together will not make you uncomfortable?”

Now that one I could answer.  “Of course not, Cass.  You’re my best friend, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that, okay?”

He looked like he was having some kind of war inside of himself, but he finally took the bottle from my outstretched hand.  “You’re my best friend, too.”

And everything went back to normal.

- 3 -

“How the hell does this keep happening?” I groaned incredulous.

Cass growled something unintelligible into my back, his arms wrapped tightly around my middle.

Thing was, I knew exactly how it happened.

You’re not drunk, Dean?

I ain’t drunk, Cass.

You seem vaguely inebriated.  I do not wish to have sex without full consent.

Then use your mojo to sober me up, Jesus.

And I had continued to do with my hand exactly what I’d been doing previously, sober as a judge.

“Go back to sleep,” Cass mumbled, kissing the back of my neck.

It gave me goosebumps.

Fuck.

“Gotta pee,” I said, shoving out of his hold and throwing my feet over the side of the bed.

Naked again.

I grabbed my robe and made my exit as quickly as possibly, slamming the door behind me in my haste.

Goddammit, how had this happened again?

We’d been watching The Golden Girls for chrissakes.  And yeah, I’d had more than my fair share of that bottle of bourbon, but Cass?  Really?  I mean, was my right hand not sufficient?  I needed a dude to jerk me off?  Was I that friggin’ lonely?

No, that wasn’t what was going on.

I wasn’t going to think about what was going on.

Instead, I peed.

Then I realized that I’d left Cass in a panic.

After I had promised him…

He was going to be so mad at me.

He was going to leave.

He was absolutely going to leave.

I was running down the hall before I could really think about it.  “Cass!” I called as I threw the door open again.

He was sitting on my bed, fully clothed now, trench coat and all, and looking just about as pissed as I expected.

“Hey, there, buddy,” I said, not knowing what to say now that I was actually here.

“Hey, pal,” he replied, dripping with sarcasm.

“Look…” I tried.

“I think you’ve made yourself quite clear, Dean.”

I chewed on my bottom lip.  “Cass, c’mon, man…”

“Fool me once, shame on you,” he said, shaking his head.  “Fool me twice, and I am the one who is shamed.”

“It’s not like that.”

“What is it like then, Dean?”

“I dunno, man,” was all I could come up with.

“I see,” Cass said, standing up brusquely.

He was gonna go and he was never gonna come back.

My hand was gripping his shoulder tight before I’d even told myself to move.  “Don’t go,” I said, which might have come out a little like begging.

Cass didn’t soften at all.  In fact, his eyes turned hard as steel.  “Have you been having sexual relations with me so I won’t leave?”

“What, no,” I said incredulously, my hand still gripping him tight and trying to save myself from perdition.  “Why would you think… I’m not… I don’t think I’m… am I…?”

“I don’t know, Dean, are you?” he asked, unrelenting.

“No,” I decided.  Sleeping with Cass so he wouldn’t leave?  That was a little extreme.

So why was I sleeping with him then…?

Look, that wasn’t important.  What was important was smoothing things over and making sure this never, ever happened again.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You did.”

I stopped mid-speech and swallowed.  “Yeah, but-”

“I can barely look at you,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as his eyes flicked away from mine.

Oh, shit.

No, no, no.

“I’m sorry,” I whined pathetically.  How could I make him understand?

I didn’t even understand.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, brushing my hand away and moving past me.

All I could think of was that stupid fight, why does that something always seem to be you?, Cass walking out of the bunker while I just sat there.  Stood there?  Leaned there.

What did any of that matter?

“Don’t go!” I blurted out.  Again.

Cass sighed loudly but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“I dunno what’s up with me, okay?” I tried to explain, stepping closer to him.  “I dunno why we keep ending up in bed together, but what I do know is that you’re important to me.  I can’t… I need you, Cass.  I need you.”

“That all sounds rather selfish to me,” Cass ground out, not looking at me.

And that punched me in the gut, because as much as I acted like a selfish douchebag, in reality I…

I held back the sob that seemed to come out of nowhere.  “I hate how I treat you,” I whispered.  “It’s fucked up,” I tried to explain, my voice cracking.  I took a breath, trying to push it all back down.

Cass’s head tilted in profile, still not quite looking back at me.  “I understand, Dean.  It’s because I allow you to treat me this way.”

A tear escaped its way down my face.  I quickly rubbed it away, not wanting to deal with it.  With what it meant.

“I’m indulgent with you,” he continued, “in a way that no one else in your life is.”

I caught the sleeve of his trenchcoat, clutching the material between my fingers.

“I think you need it, but you don’t know how to accept it,” he said.  “Love, compassion, sincerity.  These things, they all… ‘rub you’ the ‘wrong way’.  You reject them even while you’re reaching out for them, longing for them.”

I tasted blood, realizing I’d bitten my lip so hard it was bleeding.

Cass turned around, his eyes finally meeting mine.  “And I’ll let you do it every time,” he said sadly, thumbing over my lip and healing the cut, “because I love you, Dean.”

I wanted to tell him to stop.  That he deserved better.  He wasn’t stuck with me, he could let go and move on and I kissed him instead.

And instead of telling me to fuck off, Cass used all that angelic strength of his to lift me off the fucking floor and take me back to bed.

- 3 -

I’d figured out the problem.

“We’re in the Dean Cave,” Cass observed from his chair next to mine.

“Yes,” I agreed, not looking away from the TV.

“We always watch Dr. Sexy in your room,” he pointed out.

“Sometimes it’s good to change things up.”

Cass seemed to accept that at face value.  He stopped bugging me about it, anyway.

And here we were, a couple of dudes sharing some pizza and some beers, watching TV, and not having sex.  As two dudes usually did.

See, it was obvious now.

No one else ever came into my bedroom.  Sure, Sam stuck his nose in if I was sleeping late or if I was playing my records too loud for his delicate womanly ears, but he never actually came in.  We didn’t hang out in there.  A bedroom was a man’s sacred space.  It was a space for a man and the person he was about to have sex with.  Er, woman.  The woman he was about to have sex with.  Well, when talking about me personally.  Other dudes might have sex with men.  I had sex with women.  And okay, yeah, the two (do we go by days or number of orgasms because then it was five) times with Cass.  But that was because he was in my sacred space when he shouldn’t be.

Sacred space was not a euphemism.

Anyway, problem solved, everything was back to normal.

“This episode is less plausible than usual,” Cass commented.

“Really?  Are you a medical professional now?”

“I don’t need to be to know that no hospital would allow a surgeon to operate on his own brother when he has a potential head injury from being in the car accident with said brother which caused him to need surgery.”

“Just don’t think about it,” I said, waving off his very boring criticism.  “Look at the sexy doctors and enjoy.”

“The plot is distracting me from the sexiness,” he complained.

“Oh my god, you’re the guy who watches porn for the plot,” I groaned.

“I always find the plot difficult to follow,” Cass said, turning his squint on me.  “The leaps of logic that the characters make rarely follow an understandable path.”

“I think the path is ‘we wanna bang and any flimsy excuse will do’.”

“I still find it most perplexing.”

“Dude,” I said, shaking my head.  I couldn’t help my grin.  “You’re supposed to get off to it, not write essays about it.”

“I’m just trying to understand…” he started, then trailed off, his expression going completely confused.  “Why is Dr. Sexy taking his shirt off in the middle of an operation?”

“Don’t question it, just enjoy,” I assured him.  I sure was.

“You realize that the admiration you feel for Dr. Sexy is actually lust, right?” Cass asked, staring at me hard.

“What, no,” I protested, though for some reason I still couldn’t quite remove my eyes from those pectorals.

“I think you would find a sense of peace if you just admitted it,” Cass said with a shrug.

“What’re you, the closet police?” I grumbled.

“Are you in a closet?” he shot back.

“Shaddup,” I muttered, sinking deeper into my chair.

He did so.

I tried not to think about it and instead focused on all the important action happening on the television.  All the hospital monitors were beeping and alarming and basically going nuts, so Dr. Sexy was about to do Something Drastic to save his brother.

Fuck, he was hot with no shirt on, body sheened in sweat as he dared to do the operation that everyone said was impossible.

“I have a crush on Dr. Sexy,” I muttered.

“Thank you for telling me that,” Cass said, smiling at me warmly before turning his eyes back to the TV.  “Dr. Wang is more my type.”

That jolted me upright.  “You have a type?” I asked incredulously.

He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.  “I suppose it is more a turn of phrase.  People I am attracted to certainly vary with their physical and mental characteristics.”

“But you’re into Dr. Wang?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows at him.

“She is… assertive and driven, yet has a vulnerable side that she tries to keep hidden which I find… endearing,” he decided with a nod.

“And she’s got nice tits.”

Cass sighed loudly.

“Are they not nice?” I asked.

“They’re lovely,” he assented.  “I just wish you wouldn’t boil people down to their physical attributes.”

“She’s a character on a TV show, man…”

“So you don’t do the same thing to the waitress at the diner?  The clerk at the gas station?  The ‘damsel in distress’?”

“We’re talking about how you wanna bone Dr. Wang, not fighting the patriarchy or whatever,” I complained.

“Sorry, dude,” he muttered sarcastically.  “She’s so hot, I desire frequent intercourse with her.”

“Don’t be lame,” I protested.

“My legs are fully functional.”

I threw a pillow at him.

Cass just glowered as it bounced off his head.

I snorted.

“At least I don’t want to ‘bang’ that imbecile shirtless doctor in cowboy boots.”

“He’s a brain surgeon!”

“A terrible one,” Cass muttered.  “He always disregards appropriate scrubbing procedures, he speaks to other doctors about his patients in defiance of HIPAA, he has sexual relations with interns in closets-”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.”

He huffed out an annoyed sound.

I waggled my eyebrows at him.

His glare got very… sexy.

I swallowed.

Whatever, sometimes I found dudes attractive.  It didn’t have to mean anything.

In fact, the fact that Cass was very attractive didn’t mean anything at all.

“Dean,” he growled at me, and it sounded like a warning.

It was now undeniable that I was getting hard.

Which made no sense and was stupid.

Why did Cass now equal sex to my brain?  Well, no, not my brain.  The other brain.

God fucking dammit.

“Dean?” he repeated, but it was softer now, a question.

“Do you like guys and girls?” I asked, because who the fuck knows.

He hesitated before answering.  “You mean sexually?” he finally clarified.

I just nodded my head.  Me and words weren’t friends right about then.

“I don’t really consider genitalia a concern, so I suppose the simplest answer to your question would be ‘yes’.”

“Oh,” I said.  I nodded.  Then I shook my head.  “But you’re an angel.”

“…and…?”

“Isn’t that a, ya know, a big sin and all that?”

“Dean, God was similarly unconcerned with gender,” Cass said.  “And also, Chuck is an asshole.”

“Oh,” I said.  It took a minute.  “And hell yeah he is.  Fuck that guy.”

Cass sighed, giving me a fond look.  “It’s okay, Dean.”

I didn’t ask what was okay.  We didn’t need to talk about this anymore, or how it pertained to me.

Instead I reached over and tugged on Cass’s sleeve.

He studied my face.

I pulled a little more insistently, and he immediately gave in, moving towards me.  I looked up at him, standing over my recliner, and tugged again until he leaned down and I could rest my hand against his stubbly cheek.

Cass’s eyes stared into mine, asking a question.

I guided his mouth to mine, making sure he didn’t have to ask twice.

Cass seemed very into it, until he wasn’t, pulling back abruptly.  “Sam…”

Why in the hell was he saying my brother’s name while kissing me-

Oh, right.

Sam was still up, nerding in the map room, and was known to stick his nose in the Dean Cave when he was bored.

“Meet me in my room,” I decided, giving him one last thorough tonguing to make sure he didn’t make any detours.

“Okay,” he agreed, sounding kinda breathless, his stare a little glassy.

I grinned, reaching for the remote and turning off the TV.  “See you in five.”

Cass appeared in my room in exactly five minutes, and proceeded to take me apart.

The next day we had sex in the Impala.

The day after, we had sex in the cheap motel we were staying in while Sam was out interviewing witnesses.

Apparently, my bedroom wasn’t the problem.

- 4 -

“I need to get laid,” I decided.

Sam gave me a funny look over the shopping cart he was pushing around Walmart.

“Sorry, Donna Martin, are you still waiting for marriage to lose your V-card?” I asked, tossing the jumbo box of condoms into the cart.

“Really, a 90210 reference?”

“If the skirt fits,” I said with a shrug.

Sam sighed loudly.  “I’m just wondering why you need to get laid so bad when apparently you’ve already gone through like thirty condoms since we were here last month.”

“What, are you keeping tabs on how many rubbers I go through now?  Things with Eileen that bad that you gotta live vicariously through me?”

“Whatever, dude,” Sam scoffed at me.

I threw in another box of condoms just to be an ass.  And also Cass and I were probably gonna use them.  I mean, we could use them separately.  Like independently.  With chicks.  I had taught Cass all about safe not-involving-angel-blades sex, and he was ready to take those lessons out into the wild.

So Cass would have sex with women.  Or dudes.  Whatever, I didn’t judge.  And I would have sex with women.  And we could go through two large boxes of condoms.  And annoy Sam by buying even more condoms next time we were shopping.  This was a win-win.

“I see you got the cherry-flavored ones,” Cass murmured from where he was suddenly lurking behind me.

I didn’t jump out of my skin due to years of practice and turned very slowly to face him, glad that Sam was already in the next aisle.  “Wha?” I asked intelligently.

“I prefer them to the non-flavored ones,” he explained with a nod of approval.

“But you don’t… taste things?” I tried.

“Yes, but I like the way they feel in my mouth.”

“…oh,” I said, trying not to have sexual thoughts in the middle of a Walmart.

“I’d like to try different flavors, too, though,” he mused.

“Uh-huh.”

Cass squinted at me.  “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” I squeaked.  “Where’s Sam?”

“He’s in the hair-care aisle, trying to decide on a hair mask,” Cass said, his eyes glowing as he searched for and located my brother.

That was kinda hot, too.

Fuck.

What was wrong with my brain?

Cass was not hot.

Well, no, okay, fine, objectively he was an attractive dude.  If you were into dudes.

Which I wasn’t.

Except, you know when I was.

Fine, I was into Dr. Sexy.

Patrick Swayze.

Gunner Lawless.

This list was getting long but I couldn’t leave out…

Harrison Ford.

But who wasn’t?  Every dude had a man crush.  It was a thing.

Does every dude fuck their best friend?

Suck his cherry-flavored dick?

I needed to get laid.  That was what this was.

“We’re going out tonight!” I declared to Cass.

He shrugged disinterestedly in response.

So a few hours later we were parked at a bar, drinking beers and scoping the room.

“The chick in the low-cut top is definitely checking you out,” I informed Cass.

He glanced towards her, which made her blush and look away.  He turned back to me with that same disinterested look he’d gotten when I’d suggested this whole thing.  “That’s nice,” he deadpanned at me.

“Dude, c’mon, have you seen that rack?” I complained.  Cass got all the good attention and he didn’t even appreciate it.

“I’m more interested in your rack,” he said, taking a bored pull from his beer.

“I don’t have-” I started to sputter and stopped myself.  Now was not the time, because a woman in a very short skirt had just walked into the bar, looking like she was on the prowl.  “Okay, things just got interesting.”

Cass rolled his eyes.  “Can I go home yet?”

“Whaddya mean, go home?”

“I mean that I have no intention of watching you shamelessly flirt with that young woman,” he informed me.

“Uh, dude, that’s why we’re here,” I protested.

“It’s why you’re here,” he corrected me.  “I just came along to enjoy our date.”

“I’m sorry, our what now?”

“Our date,” he repeated, not explaining at all.

“We came here to pick up women,” I tried explaining.

“No, you ditched Sam, took me to dinner, then took me to a bar for a ‘nightcap’,” he told me, and actually that was a fairly accurate description of our night.

So there hadn’t been a lot flirting with the ladies.  It was still early, and there just hadn’t been that many women of interest in the bar, so Cass and I had been talking, playing darts, and doing other best friend stuff.

It seemed like a date, but that was just ‘cause… uh, the women, right, there were no women to flirt with, so we were flirting with each- I mean so we were hanging out with each other like usual.  And yeah I took him to a diner first, ‘cause bar food was crap, and yeah I paid, because I always paid because Cass didn’t have any money.  And I stole some of his fries off of his plate and he did that eye flash thing to try and get me to stop, but it kinda turned me on and we played footsie under the table, but it was all very platonic, non-gay footsie.

You knew it was non-gay, ‘cause here we were now, ready to pick up some women.

Well, I was ready.

Cass could do whatever he wanted.

So I told him so.

He stared at me for a long moment.  When he finally spoke, he seemed tired.  “So you would like me to have intercourse with a woman?”

“Or a dude, whatever, I don’t judge.”

I could actually feel his eye roll.

“Fine,” he said.

I had been opening my mouth to argue, but now I was just confused.  “…fine…?”

“Yes, fine,” he said, pushing out of his seat.  “That woman earlier seemed prepared to mate with me.”

“Jesus Christ, Cass, don’t call it mating…”

“I will call it whatever I want to call it,” he said, picking his drink up off the bar and sauntering away like he was some smooth, attractive dude who was good at picking up chicks.

This was fucking ridiculous.

Cass flashed those baby blues at the chick in the low-cut top, and all the sudden she was inviting him to sit next to her, and they were talking easily, and she kept leaning forward to give him a nice view, and he was looking, I could goddamn see him looking, and I was…

...proud…?

Nope, that definitely wasn’t what I was feeling.

I was pretty sure I was seething.

Well, two could play at this game.

Except instead of getting out of my seat and going to flirt on my own, all I could do was watch Cass and this nameless chick.

Why was she touching his arm?

Why was he laughing?

Was he really going to go home with her?

It irritated me.

Obviously because Cass was getting lucky and I wasn’t.

Cass could fuck whoever he wanted.

It was fine, I didn’t care.

In fact, after one more beer, no make that a shot, I was going to get up and flirt with Short Skirt.

“Dean,” a voice growled in my ear.

“Huh?” I said, my reaction time weirdly slow.

“Get in the car.”

“But uh, whattabout your date?” I asked, definitely not being jealous.

“You are my date,” he reminded me.

“This isn’t a date,” I protested lamely.

“Get in the car,” he repeated.  “I’m tired of these stupid games and I will have you now.”

“Oh,” I said, not relieved at all.  “So we’re gonna…” I trailed off, then just mimed a blow job.

“Yes,” he said, irritated and frustrated and exasperated and all the -ed’s.

“Awesome,” I said, slapping some cash down on the bar to cover our tab.

Then I went out to the car and let Cass have his way with me in the backseat.

- 5 -

I woke up warm and safe, which as usual, sent me into a panic.

“Gotta… coffee,” I decided, trying to disentangle myself from Cass’s octopus hold.  I’d gotten a foot on the ground even though there was still an arm around my chest, but suddenly I was being yanked back into bed.

“It’s not time to get up,” a voice growled in my ear.

Fuck, Cass had a very sexy morning voice.  “You don’t gotta sleep,” I complained, trying to squirm away from him.

“I find that resting with you gives me a feeling of ‘recharging’,” he hummed, worming his way back into my arms and resting his cheek against my chest.

Why did we just fit together like this?  “Coffee,” I protested.

“Later,” he assured me, pressing a sleepy kiss into my skin.

“This is non-consensual cuddling,” I muttered.  How had I gotten trapped here?  Every morning I ran out on Cass, and every morning he let me… which wasn’t as shitty as it sounded.  I mean, it’s not like I kicked him out of bed.  I just left.

Not as shitty as it sounded.

Anyway, Cass was forcing cuddles on me which was actually pretty shitty, except that he was so warm and huggy and I was asleep.

I woke up irritated, my arms reaching for the warmth.

“I have to go,” Cass apologized, kissing my forehead and easily pulling out of my grip on his arm.

I didn’t whine.

“Heaven ‘shit’,” he explained, and I knew he was quoting me.

“It can wait,” I muttered, still reaching for him.

“I’m afraid it can’t,” he said, giving me a soft smile.  “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“What, in a few weeks?” I complained, starting to feel more awake.

“I hope not,” he assured me.

I frowned up at him.

He leaned in, kissing my eyelid.

Jesus, when did we start doing shit like this, and when did I start liking it?

“I love you,” he said softly, almost to himself.  “I’ll see you soon.”

My face felt very warm as he disappeared.  I tried to settle back into sleep, but the bed that had felt so comfortable a couple of minutes ago just felt empty now.

I decided to finally get my damn coffee, a glance at my alarm clock telling me that it was a lot later than I expected.

Sam caught my scent on the way to the kitchen and followed me in.

“You gonna sleep the day away?” he tried to joke.

Why did he have his serious face on?

Oh, shit, did he know?

Did he know?

He didn’t know.

Did he?

Sam leaned against the counter, all fake casual.  “So Cass carried you in from the garage last night.”

How the hell did he know that?  We’d been at the bar pretty late, then we’d been in the parking lot for… a while.

Dean, do you think you can come again?

Cass was a persistent guy, I’d give him that.  Singularly dedicated.

Anyway, I was exhausted and I fell asleep afterwards, and Cass was a friggin’ angel and all, so it was really no big deal if he… wait, he literally carried me inside?  Fireman’s carry or princess style?

I definitely wasn’t going to ask Sam, and he was starting to look at me funny.

Deflect, deflect!

“Jealous?” I shot back.

Wait, what?

No, that wasn’t…

“Of what?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Ya know, of the uh fun times me an’ Cass had,” I said, and dammit, NO.  I was losing control of the situation.  Need to get things back on track.  “Pickin’ up ladies.”

“Cass picked up ladies?” he asked flatly.

“Kinda,” I said.  We’d sort of had it out between round one and round two, and it turned out that the chick with the nice rack had definitely been interested, and he had to politely turn her down because he was only interested in me.

Which was weird, but whatever.  Kinda nice.  Mostly weird.

Cass was a weird guy.

Sam let out a very loud sigh.  “Dean.”

“What?” I complained, cradling my coffee cup in front of me defensively.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

Shit, he knew.  Why did he always know?

He couldn’t possibly know.

“Doing what?” I asked, leveling him with a hard stare and daring him to say it.

“The drinking, Dean,” he said, exasperated.

“Huh?”

Sam’s frown deepened.  “You’re turning into Dad.”

“Wow, Sammy, really?” I asked incredulously.

“You were so drunk last night you let Cass drive Baby and carry you to your bed bridal-style.”

Well, that answered that question.

“Dude, I wasn’t drunk,” I shot back, annoyed.

Sam did not appear to believe me.

“I was in a sex coma,” I explained.

“A sex… coma…”

“An inexperienced young lady such as yourself wouldn’t understand, but when you-”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you were drunk.”

“Um, yeah it does, because Cass won’t even have sex with me if I’m drunk, so-” I screeched to a halt.

“Why would you want to…” Sam trailed off, his brow creased in concentration.

Abort, abort.

How did I get out of this one?

“Cass won’t let me have sex.  With ladies.  When I’m drunk.  Because consent,” was the genius explanation I came up with it.

Sammy still looked like he was doing quadratic equations in his head.  Then his eyes widened.

Nope, nope, nope.  “That’s why I need boxes of condoms.  To have sex with all the ladies.  When you’re not drunk you can, you know, go for round two.  Or three.  With chicks.  In their vaginas.”

“Stop talking, Dean.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Sam sank into the chair across from me at the table.  “You and Cass…”

“No,” I said very assuredly.

Sam groaned, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling.  “I can’t wrap my mind around this.”

“There’s nothing to wrap around,” I said firmly.  Certainly not my thighs around Cass’s waist.  Which had been happening a lot lately and I didn’t really know how to feel about that, but now was certainly not the time to unpack all that.

Sam breathed in deeply and let it out slowly.

I suddenly felt… shame?  Or that Sam was ashamed of me?  Was that what this was?  Well, Sammy had always been ashamed of me, just more for the non-politically correctness and the alcohol and the gambling, less the sexuality thing.

He seemed to read my mind, sitting up straight and quickly sputtering out, “hey, you know I’m weirded out that it’s Cass, not ‘cause Cass is a dude, right?”

“I uh…” I trailed off, not sure how to respond.

“I mean, I know he’s been in love with you forever and all, but I always thought it was unrequited?”

“Hey, no reason to bring up the L-word,” I said, feeling supremely uncomfortable.  “Unless we’re talking Jenny Schecter,” I attempted to joke, but it was starting to feel harder to breathe for some reason.

Sam’s eyes went all puppy dog.  “I’m sorry, I’m being an ass.  I’m really happy you told me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I said, looking around the room at anywhere but that sympathetic face.

“Okay,” he agreed in that pacifying way of his that meant he didn’t believe me at all.  “Just know you can always talk to me?  About anything?”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” I said, standing up and taking my mug to the sink.  I washed it and then put it in the dish rack to dry.

Sam was still sitting at the table, wagging his little puppy dog tail at me.

I got out of there as fast as I could.

- 6 -

“Is it truly worth being upset over?” Cass mused, stroking his fingers through my hair.

I was sitting on the floor between Cass’s open legs while he sat on the couch.  It was weirdly comfortable, especially with the hair stroking and all.

Also, it was easier to talk when I didn’t have to look into his eyes.

“I’m not upset,” I explained.  “I’m… whatever, it shouldn’t have come out of my mouth.”

“Well I’m glad that he knows,” he said, nudging my cheek with his knee.

“He doesn’t know anything,” I growled.  “He thinks that we’re fucking.”

“We are fucking, Dean.”

“No, but like he thinks that we’re a couple.”

“We are a couple, Dean.”

“What?” I asked incredulously.  “We are not a couple.”

“Oh.”

I was definitely not going to turn around to see what kind of look was on his face.

Which was a mistake, because it was probably smug as fuck.

“So why are we sitting like this?” he asked, that smarminess leaking through every syllable.

“Whaddya mean, why are we sitting like this?”

“I thought physical proximity paired with intimate touches was something only shared by couples.”

“This is hardly intimate,” I tried to protest.

Cass took his touch away.

I swallowed down a whine.  I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction.

“Something wrong, Dean?”

“Shaddup,” I muttered.

He scraped his fingers through my scalp again, giving my whole body a pleasant tingle, and then he was tugging gently, guiding the back of my head to rest on his thigh.

Dammit, I was looking right into his eyes.

“Shall I do this for Sam?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at me.  The strokes of his fingers had gotten slower, more deliberate.  “As an expression of our friendship, since apparently this form of touch is completely platonic.”

I glared at him.  “Don’t be a smartass.”

“Then stop telling me that we’re not on a date, that we are not in a relationship, that you don’t feel the same way about me…”

I looked away from him.

His fingers paused, resting in my hair.  He tapped my chin with his free hand.

I let my eyes meet his again, but it was under protest.  “Why do you gotta make such a big deal about everything?”

“Because it’s a big deal to me,” he said, and I could see the hurt crinkling around his eyes.

“Cass,” I sighed, not wanting to deal with All This.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, looking vulnerable.

I assumed that he meant the whole hair-stroking thing, but he could have been talking about anything from drinking the last of the coffee without brewing a new pot, to his recent habit of picking me up off the ground because he was too impatient to wait for me to walk to the bed.

Anyway, the answer was mostly the same.

I shook my head.

A little smile tugged at the corner of Cass’s mouth, but he didn’t look happy.

I was just the worst piece of shit sometimes.

I sat up, turning to face him better.  “Let’s go for a drive or something.”

Cass’s head tilted to the side, his expression that of a perpetually confused angel.

“We can maybe swing by the movies, see what’s playing?” I suggested, waiting for understanding to dawn.

It took a little longer than I hoped, but when it did, Cass’s smile seemed to light up his face.  “I’d like that,” he agreed, not even mentioning the D-word.

I decided to change since we were going out, so I upgraded my holy jeans for slightly less-holy jeans, and tugged on a clean t-shirt.

“You look nice,” Cass said as we walked to the garage.

He just said it so casually that it made me tongue-tied.  “Thanks,” was all I could manage to get out.

I wasn’t going to return the compliment.  Not that Cass didn’t look nice, because he kind of looked amazing out of the trenchcoat and into his own jeans and t-shirt, but there was absolutely no reason to tell another dude how ‘nice’ he looked, even if he…

“You look good,” I murmured into Cass’s ear before strapping on my seatbelt and keeping my eyes laser-focused in front of me.

Cass seemed pleased, and we could all just leave it at that.

I let him pick the movie, which was probably a mistake, because of course he picked a chick flick no matter how much I tried to teach him the ways of having good taste in movies.  But it was kind of a weird chick flick with a surprising amount of action, and it was more about mothers and daughters than about romance, which wasn’t anything I could relate to, but it was kinda interesting despite the theater being mostly empty.

Cass and I got the last row to ourselves, so it didn’t feel so weird to keep my arm over the back of his seat, or to share my coke with him even though it only had one straw.

No one was watching us.

No one cared.

Cass was watching the credits with the same delighted expression he’d had plastered on his face through the entire movie.

I leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth.

His smiled widened.

As we walked back towards the lobby to toss our trash, I let the back of my hand brush against his.

It was the stupid movie’s fault.

“I really enjoyed it,” Cass said cheerfully, pushing the empty popcorn cup into the trash.

“It didn’t suck like I thought it would,” I agreed.

“You could just say that you liked it.”

I sighed, holding the door open for him.  “I liked it,” I admitted with a roll of my eyes.

“See?” Cass said, looking pleased.

“Whatever,” I muttered.  I pulled my keys from my pocket and unlocked Baby.

“It is not ‘whatever’, Dean, it is ‘yes, Castiel, you’re right’,” he said, doing an impression of me that was really just his regular voice and a frown.

“Ha,” I replied, sliding into the front seat.

“I know you,” he continued to complain as he sat down next to me, strapping on his seat belt.  “I know the things you don’t allow yourself to like.”

“Thanks, Carl Jung, but I’d rather get laid than psychoanalyzed on a date,” I grumbled.

Oh.

Cass didn’t say anything, but I could see that damn smirk out of the corner of my eye.

Couldn’t take the d-word back now, just had to make sure it didn’t happen again.

It wasn’t going to happen again.

It absolutely, positively wasn’t going to happen again.

- 7 -

Sam had found us a case, so we were all sitting in the library, reading ancient tomes about friggin’ centaurs.

“I mean, they’re basically talking horses,” I complained.  “Do we really gotta take out Mr. Ed?”

“Three people are dead, Dean,” Sam informed me in his bitchiest tone.

“Yeah, three dude-bro assholes,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps we can find a way to take them back to Thessaly,” Cass suggested.

“See,” I said, gesturing to Sam.

He just rolled his eyes at me, before burying his nose in his book again.

He’d kinda been doing that all night.

It was the first time the three of us were all together since my diarrhea of the mouth the other day, and I couldn’t help but wonder…

Cass caught me looking at Sam anxiously, and he nudged my foot with his under the table.

I’d taught him that move.  I did it to him when he was in his head about something.

He mouthed something at me.

I frowned.

‘He doesn’t care,’ he mouthed more slowly.

‘How do you know?’ I prayed at him.

‘We talked,’ he mouthed, like that was supposed to give me any comfort.

“What, so you two are conspiring behind my back now?” I growled.

Sam looked up from his book, shooting a nervous glance between me and Cass.

“Why are you such a dramatic queen?” Cass asked.

Sam guffawed at that.

“It’s ‘drama’ queen,” I groaned.

“That, too,” Cass agreed.

Sam guffawed more loudly.

I did not like this.

I did not like this at all.

I slammed my book shut and stood up rapidly.

“Dean.”

Cass’s voice was soothing, like he was talking to a frightened animal.

Abort.

A strong hand caught my arm as I rounded the table.

“I apologize, my teasing was inappropriate,” Cass offered.  “Stay.”

Sam opened his mouth to say something, took one look at Cass, and shut it again.

Interesting…

But I was still in fight-or-flight, and Cass was really friggin’ strong, no matter how hard I nonchalantly tried to escape his grip.

“Dean, the case…” Sam finally put in lamely.

“I think you two nerds got it covered.”

“Yes, but we enjoy your company,” Cass said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah?  This ball of sunshine?” I asked.

“I certainly wouldn’t call you that,” he said, wrinkling his nose.  “That would be… hot and unpleasant.”

I wanted to make a dirty joke, but I was keenly aware that Sammy was sitting right there.

Which was stupid.

Because I loved making dirty jokes in front of Sam, since he either laughed along with me or was a complete priss and got all put out, which was equally hilarious.

So why couldn’t I…?

“I’m not gay,” I blurted out.

The matching looks of sympathy I received for that verbal diarrhea only served to set me more on edge.

I started backing away.  “I’m not,” I insisted.

“No one said that you were,” Cass said gently.

I turned to glare at Sam.  “He says it with his eyes.”

“What?” he bristled at me.  “Dude, I never-”

“I read ya loud and clear,” I said, glaring harder.

“Dean, it’s Sam,” Cass said, sounding exasperated.

I looked at him, ready to go off, but those damn eyes batted up at me, and then I was turning into a pathetic ball of mush.  “Yeah, it’s Sam,” I said in a much more broken tone than I intended.

And Cass got it immediately, giving me the most puppy dog eyes of all puppy dog eyes.  “Dean, he doesn’t think any less of you.”

I scoffed at that.

“Is that what you think?” Sam cut in, giving Cass a run for his money on who had the most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“Whatever, man,” I muttered.  “‘Overcompensating’.  That’s the word, right?  Dean, the giant fairy?”

And Sam looked guilty, proving my point exactly.

I moved to leave.

“I’m an ass,” Sam declared.

“Yeah, well,” I agreed.

“I didn’t… I’m an ass,” he reasserted.  “I know we joke around and stuff, but I shouldn’t… there’s just some things you don’t say, and I get that now.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, not sure of how much more of this kumbayah bullshit I could take.  “I don’t care.”

Sam and Cass exchanged long-suffering looks.

I narrowed my eyes at them, but Cass was using his angelic strength to tug me into the chair next to him.

“Look, if I had known that you really were-” Sam tried to say.

“I really was what?” I asked, my voice dropping about an octave to Threat Threat Abort Abort.

Samuel did not get the message.

“You know, that you’re-”

I glanced at Cass.  “Did you just kick him under the table?”

“No,” he deadpanned at me.

I felt myself start to smile.

“I’m glad that you’re enjoying my pain,” Sam muttered, his face all scrunched up.

It was less about Sam and more about Cass, but he didn’t need to know that.  Because yes, kicking people was always funny.

I kind of wanted to kiss Cass, but that would be weird.

“Can you just not make a big deal out of everything?” I settled on.

“How am I-”

“We don’t have to have a Winchester hug-it-out moment over me and Cass fucking, okay?”

“It’s not about-”

“I’m bi, okay?  Not gay.”

Sam looked relieved.  “Okay.”

“Cass and I don’t do gay stuff,” I explained.

“…what…?” Sam asked, looking panicked again.

Cass sighed loudly.

I ignored them both, flipping open a book.

“No, I’m sorry, you’re gonna hafta explain that one,” Sam complained.

“Do you want the sordid details of our sex life?” I asked, not looking up because I really didn’t want to look at either one of them at the moment.

“God, no,” he said, “but… I mean, you’re two dudes, so…”

“We don’t do butt stuff,” I explained succinctly.  That should cover it.

“Um, I’m really going to regret asking this, but um… what do you do then?  To have uh non-gay sex?”

“We do dick stuff,” I said, because duh, obviously.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could still feel the contortions he was putting it through before he finally said, “so uh, no, wait, sorry, um… what?”

I had really failed Sammy on sex education, which was kind of embarrassing, but more on his part, because honestly, I’d educated him plenty and he’d just covered his ears and did his best not to listen.

“We do stuff like you do with a chick,” I explained.  “Just, there’s two dicks instead of a chick.”

“But the two dicks together are not… gay…?” Sam tried to reason out.

“Exactly,” I said.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

“It says here that centaurs do not handle their wine very well,” Cass put in.

“So you want us to party with them?” I asked, happy to move away from my conversation with Sam and back to the supernatural.

“Well, it could perhaps serve as a distraction,” he reasoned.

Sam still looked like he was having a coronary, but everything was back on track.

#isola that river in egypt #dean&cass #fanfiction #dean being dean

[thequeenofsastiel]

I headcanon that everyone in Supernatural put up with Dean's abusive ass and doted on him because Chuck made them

#that's my story and i'm sticking to it #it's the only explanation #anti dean winchester #dean critical #dean negative #dean abuses everyone in his life at some point #it's not okay just because dean is attractive #can we just throw dean away? #oh wait we did #we just threw the whole dean in the trash #dean is rotting #dean was the real monster of that show #team amy's son gets the revenge he promised dean #team rusty nail #supernatural

[superbadassnatural]

Anything for You

Summary: Y/N got the answer she dreaded. Her heart was broken by a man who didn’t deserve her. The only solace she could find was the arms of her best friend. Square filled: Heartbreak Pairing: OMC x Reader // Dean x Reader Word count: 1,704 Warnings: cheating, angst, lil bit of fluff, Dean’s a cutie pie A/N: I’m back after what feels like forever! This was written for the amazing @supernatural-jackles​ Tell me a Story Bingo! Hope y’all enjoy!

(x)

“I’m only gonna ask you this once.” You searched for his brown eyes, forcing him to look at you. “Did you sleep with Lindsey?”

Your heart banged against your ribcage; pulse thumped in your ears.

Alex’s jaw ticked. There was nowhere he could go. He couldn’t run out of your bedroom and pretend nothing happened. He would have to face you eventually. He also couldn’t lie. If he did, it would haunt him. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t worth lying. Even if you didn’t forgive him, he had nothing to lose. He ran his inked hand through his jet black hair, blowing out a breath.

“Yes.” He averted his gaze.

“Nu-uh” —you shook your head, trying to keep your voice from trembling— “Don’t be a coward. You certainly weren’t one when you fucked her. Now look me in the eye and tell me.”

“I slept with Lindsey,” he said, eyes locked in yours, voice void of emotion. “Happy now?”

“‘Happy now?’” you scoffed. “Are you serious? At least try to pretend you’re sorry.”

“Well, I am sorry. But I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Your hands trembled as they balled into fists. You looked up, blinking away your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. He didn’t deserve a single tear from you. You could cry once he’d left your house. Not now.

“Why?” your voice wavered. “Just tell me, why would you sleep with her and waste our relationship over one night?”

“I was drunk.”

“Cut the bullshit,” you snarled. “You were drunk, not unconscious. You knew what you were doing. It’s not like you thought she was me, ‘cause we certainly don’t look alike. Not ever our skin color is the same. Let alone our personalities. And it’s not like you tripped and fell naked into her bed.”

“I was drunk, and it clouded my better judgment.”

“Did it happen before?”

“No.”

“Was she the only one?”

“Yes.”

“God, you’re so stupid,” you scoffed with a shook of your head. “We’ve been together for four years. Four fucking years. You decided to waste all that in one night. You took our plans, our promises, our future and threw all of it in the trash.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Fuck you.” A snarl left your lips.

“I know I screwed up. You deserved a whole lot better than that. But couldn’t you see we were burning out?”

You glowered, eyes snapping at him. “Don’t you dare try to find any excuse for your mistake.”

“I hope one day you can forgive me.”

His eyes cast down, face ridden with shame.

“Do you regret it?” your voice trembled.

Alex remained silent. He wouldn’t meet your gaze. He didn’t move. He only took shallow breaths, chest barely rising and falling.

“Do you regret it?” You already knew the answer to your question. Yet the masochist in you had to hear him say it. You needed him to voice it, or else you would forgive him too easily.

“No.” His voice was as loud as a whisper.

“You’re gonna regret it eventually,” you said matter of factly. “Maybe not today, not tomorrow. Maybe not even next week. But you are going to regret it. One day you're gonna wake up and realize the one person who was loyal to you and loved you with their whole being is gone. Then you’re gonna be miserable. That’s when you regret it. When you realize how pathetic and heartless you are.”

He stood there silent. There wasn’t much he could say. He didn’t want to prolong this relationship. It was pointless to try and justify his actions or beg for forgiveness.

Pointing towards the door of your bedroom, you said through gritted teeth. “Get out of my house.”

Alex didn’t fight. He strode out of your room and down the stairs with nothing but a frustrated sigh and zingering eyes. The front door slammed shut. A thud echoed within the walls.

Your knees trembled before giving out and hitting the floor. A sharp pain coursed through your chest. You gasped, breaths shallow and rapid.

“Oh, my god.”

Tugging at the fabric of your shirt over your heart, you allowed a burning tear to fall. It hurt everywhere. Small needles pierced through your chest so deep. You could barely breathe as more tears rolled. Alex had plunged a keen knife into your aching heart and twisted as he watched it bleed.

Tears burned down your cheeks as your heart twitched and clamped within your ribcage. You sobbed, one hand latched on your chest and the other on your stomach. All you could see was the look on his face every time you closed your eyes. Not an ounce of remorse.

But couldn’t you see we were burning out?

His words echoed in your head and splintered your heart. The ache was almost unbearable.

The loud purr of the Impala sounded through the open window of your bedroom before getting cut. Dean was home.

You didn’t want him seeing you like this. Your hand came up to cup your mouth and muffle your sobs. You stared at the open door, trying to get your legs to stand so you could shut it.

“I’m home, and I brought ice cream,” Dean announced, followed by the thud of the front door shutting.

Your mouth opened, but no word came out. You prayed Dean, your roommate and best friend, would go straight to his room. But that wasn’t likely. He’d probably seen your car parked in the driveway, and he was going to check on you.

“Y/N/N? You home?”

More tears were shed. Logger boots sounded heavy on the stairs. Bowing and shaking your head, you closed your eyes tight. Opening them, you found Dean standing on the threshold. He heaved a deep sigh. The edge of his eyes softened as his lips pursed. He knew this moment would come eventually. He only hoped you wouldn’t be the one getting hurt.

You opened your mouth several times, but no sound came out, your throat sore, the ache too much to handle. Dean walked into the room. Green eyes fixated on you, he held out his hand. You shook your head, teeth scraping your bottom lip.

“I can’t,” you said, voice hoarse.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he pleaded. “Take my hand.”

Hesitant, you took it, and he helped you to stand. Dean tucked his arm under your legs, and the other supported your back as he held you to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, sobbing. He sat on your bed, back rested on the headboard, with you on his lap.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple, his fingers running up and down your arm. “He’s an ass.”

You shook your head. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not, sweetheart.”

“You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t. But I do know it’s not your fault.”

Dean leaned to meet your eyes, but you nuzzled into his chest, hiding from his gaze.

“Tell me what happened.”

“He cheated.”

His heart quickened, thudding against your ear. Dean drew a deep breath as his jaw ticked, nostrils flaring.

“Son of a bitch.”

“It’s not his fault. I-I let him.”

“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. It’s his.”

“He asked me to come to his friend’s party, and I said I had to study. If I’d been there, he wouldn’t have slept with Lindsey.”

“No, baby. He would’ve waited for you to go home or get distracted, only then he would leave to get his dick wet. He was going to cheat whether you were there or not.”

“Dean-“ you sobbed. The fabric of his shirt was wet with tears and snot.

“You did nothing wrong.” He lifted your chin; bloodshot eyes met forest greens. “He didn’t deserve you or your heart. And I know that doesn’t make it hurt any less, but try to get that through that pretty head of yours.”

You gave him a single nod.

God, how Dean wished you’d look at him differently. He could give you the love you deserve. He could make you the most adored woman to ever walk on earth. All he needed was for you to give him a chance. He could try and heal all the damage that was left. He would kiss your tears away and hold you until your heart was glued back together. He just needed you to say the word.

For now, he was going to hold you and pick all the shattered, tiny pieces of your heart. Once the tears had dried, he was going to help you place them together.

“He had my whole heart, and he broke it either way,” you sniffled.

“I promise you I’m gonna help you put it together after I go kick his ass.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

“You wanna know what’s the worst part?” Your voice was strangled. It hurt your throat to speak. Dean hummed, his hold on you tightening. “He wasn’t mad at what he did. He was mad because I found out.”

“He’s gonna get what he deserves, sweetheart,” Dean promised. “And remember, Alex was never worthy of you nor an ounce of your love. You’re better off without him.”

Nuzzling into his chest, you focused on his scent and his words. Dean was the best friend you could’ve ever asked for.

“No, please,” you protested, grabbing his wrist when he placed you on the bed by his side and attempted to stand up. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m gonna get us the ice cream I bought, I’ll be right back. Why don’t you turn on the tv? We could watch Modern Family. That episode we love. The one they sing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’.”

Your face lightened up slightly, eyes shining and this time it wasn’t because of new tears breeding.  

“Lake Life!”

“That’s the one.” Dean smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched as he started to walk out of your room to head to the kitchen. When he reached the door, you called.

“Dean?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

What did you think of this one? Please, consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Forevers: @hobby27 @thewinchesterandreidwhore @tatted-trina6 @doozywoozy @mogaruke @babypink224221 @leah-winchester6-blog-blog @deascheck @sexyvixen7 @supernaturalharry @onethirstyunicorn @maliburenee @DrakeLover78 @malindacath

Dean’s Sweethearts: @maya-craziness @akshi8278 @trend90s @witch-of-letters @weepingwillowphoenix @danneelsmain @mrspeacem1nusone @percywinchester27 @misfit0118 @siospins2 @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @supernaturalharry

#tell me a story bingo #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #deanreader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic

[sofreddie]

What Went Wrong?

Summary: Dean tries to propose but a misunderstanding ruins everything.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Angst, Drinking, Fluff

Word Count: 1,680

A/N: This sat in my WIPs forever until I finally found inspiration to complete it.

Sam followed the sounds of the loud blues music bouncing off the walls of the Bunker. His ears carried him to Dean’s room. He opened the door, the music hitting him full on like a gust of wind to the face. Sam blinked rapidly from the sound, cringing slightly at the overwhelming scent of liquor and body odor.

Dean was stood in his room between the dresser and bed, a crystal glass in one hand, as he danced and sang along. Sam walked into the room, looking around. The room was trashed. There were several empty bottles lying around on the dresser and nightstand, a half-full bottle uncapped on the dresser.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, tapping his brother on the shoulder. Dean jumped and turned, smiling when he saw Sam. He turned down the music and spun animatedly to face Sam once more, laughing to himself.

“Sssaaammm!” Dean slurred in excitement. He finished the last swig of his glass, letting out a loud exhale.

“Are you drunk?” Sam asked concerned. Dean rarely drank anymore, not since he and Y/N got together a year before.

“Pretty much.” Dean agreed, nodding his head with a pout as he focused on refilling his glass. “Hey, you -you wanna join me?” Dean’s face perked up with excitement as he began stumbling in circles, looking for another glass. Sam flashed an unseen bitch face as he reached for the bottle. Dean stopped, putting his hands out to steady himself, clearly dizzy.

“Dean, what happened?” Sam was deeply worried.

“Nothing!” Dean laughed. “Can’t a guy just have a drink?”

“Dean,” Sam let out a sigh, trying to choose his words carefully. “I thought you and Y/N had plans tonight?”

“Oh,” Dean said as if he were surprised at the chosen topic. “Oh, that!” He said, nodding and pursing his lips. “It didn’t really go…as planned,” Dean muttered, downing the contents of his glass. He examined the glass in his hand before pointing it towards Sam. “I fucked it up. Like I fuck everything up.” He calmly stated, nodding emphatically to himself as he placed his glass on the dresser. He leaned against its edge, taking some of the weight off his feet.

“How is that even possible?” Sam whimpered, his heartbreaking for his brother. He was sure, whatever happened, Dean was just being hard on himself. He wanted this so much for him, for them. “Where is Y/N?”

Dean shook his head, wiping a tear, as he shook several bottles, looking for liquid relief. He looked at Sam, still holding the bottle and reached out to him.

“Gimme the bottle.” Dean wiggled his fingers, clearly drunk and exhausted, barely on his feet.

“No, Dean.” Sam stood his ground. “What happened?”

Dean turned towards Sam, offended, and reached for the bottle. Sam pulled it away, holding it back and high in the air.

“Give me the damn bottle, Sam!” Dean growled, growing angry.

“No, Dean, no.” Sam struggled as Dean was trying to grab and pull at his arm to reach the bottle. Sam quickly grew tired of the game, throwing the bottle over Dean’s head, where it met the wall and shattered, it’s contents dripping down the wall and to the floor. Dean watched as the puddle grew on the floor. He growled, turning on Sam once more.

“What did you do that for?!” Dean roared, advancing towards Sam. Sam put his hands in front of him defensively, taking a few steps back from his looming brother.

“Dean, what happened? Dean-” Sam was cut off as Dean shoved him, Sam stumbling back a step. Sam growled, gaining his footing and squaring his shoulders, glaring at Dean.

“It’s none of your business what happened,” Dean screamed. “I fucked up, she left, and I’m just gonna sit here and drink.” He threw his arms up in the air and let them fall dramatically to his sides. “I’m gonna go pass out.” He said, suddenly lightheaded.

Sam rushed down the hall, pulling out his cell phone to call Y/N. He tried calling several times and sent a few texts, but she didn’t respond. He opened the tracking app on his phone and looked up her GPS, quickly finding her coordinates. He ran to the kitchen, grabbing Dean’s keys from the table and taking off to her location.

Y/N eyed the bus station in the distance, only another block and she’d be there. Her feet were sore, she was exhausted, and her face stung with dried tears and dirt. She adjusted the strap of her duffel over her chest as she forced her legs to carry her forward.

Her heart leaped into her chest at the all too familiar sound of the Impala’s engine approaching. She stopped and turned to see the car approaching, the headlights blaring in the night.

The car pulled up, parking right next to her, the driver’s door opening as soon as it was in park. Y/N’s sudden elation dropped like a stone off a cliff when she saw Sam.

As he rounded the hood of the car, he could see the fallen look cross over her. She looked as bad as Dean, her eyes red, tear tracks stained on her face with dust from the road.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, approaching her and checking her over. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok.” She whispered, looking to the ground. “Where’s Dean?” She asked, tears brimming in her eyes once more. Her lip quivered and Sam’s heart shattered. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. He rested his cheek firmly against the top of her head. As her sobs poured forth, soaking his shirt, he held her tighter, worried she might crumble if he didn’t hold her together.

“He’s at home. He’s drunk.” Sam gave her a final squeeze before pulling back and looking at her, his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “He won’t tell me what happened.”

“I fucked up.” She choked out. “I fucked it all up.”

Sam was growing increasingly frustrated. Dean had a perfect night planned. Sam had helped him plan it for over a month.

What went wrong?

“He says he fucked it up,” Sam smirked at her, trying to lighten the mood. She rolled her eyes, wiping her face and leaning against the Impala.

“No, he didn’t.” She sighed. “I just…I don’t know…”

“Tell me what happened.” Sam pleaded, leaning against the impala beside her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"We had a great night and we were both a little drunk. Then out of nowhere he proposes. That would've been enough to catch me off guard, you know? Dean…marriage?"

"He's been thinking about it a long time, Y/N."

"He was so formal and traditional. He got down on one knee. It was so romantic, truly!" she insisted, "But I was prone to giggles that night and I just bust out laughing," she sighed with a hand over her eyes as she relived the experience.

"I wasn't laughing at him, but he thought I was. Then it just blew up into this huge fight of him insisting I could've just said 'no' and me insisting I didn't mean it the way he took it, but he wouldn't let me talk."

She started sobbing again and Sam held her close. These two. He rolled his eyes, unseen by her as she was tucked under his chin.

"You're both blaming yourselves. I think maybe it was a really emotional moment and you both sort of fumbled through it," he chuckled.

"The whole thing was so romantic and sweet," she sniffled into Sam's chest, "I ruined everything."

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, pulling away from her to look her in the eye, "What would your answer have been?"

She stared at him in silence for what seemed like forever before smirking and wiping at her face, "Take me home, Sam."

Y/N slowly opened their bedroom door. The room was dark and she could hear Dean's drunken snores as he slept. She smiled but stifled a giggle.

'Cause that's what's started this whole fucking thing, she chastised herself.

She crept into the room, closing the door behind her. She was familiar with the layout and made her way to the desk, flicking on the lamp and providing dim illumination.

She turned towards the bed and covered her mouth with a hand when she looked at Dean. He melted her heart. He was face down on the bed, on top of the covers, one arm slung uncomfortably backwards across his back.

"De-" she lightly spoke, still several feet from him.

She had learned long ago to be careful when waking Dean. Sometimes it could take him a while to realize where he was and what was going on. She hated the guilt he would assign himself if he did something to her while in that disoriented state.

"De-" she spoke a little louder, "Baby, wake up."

Dean snorted awake, rubbing at his eyes and groaning at his head. He focused towards Y/N and it took him a minute to realize it was her.

"Y/N?" he sat up straighter, "You came back?"

"Sam got me," she explained, stepping closer to him now that he was alert. She slowly sat on the bed next to him. His lack of any movement or reaction told her how guarded he was at that moment.

"I am so sorry for everything that happened," she said, starting to tear up, "I just wanted you to know that I wanted to say yes. Want." she corrected with a shake of her head.

Dean's walls crumbled down as his bright smile broke through.

"Really?" he breathed out, bringing her closer to him.

"I would be honored to be your wife. Yours forever, De."

He captured her lips with his, laying back on the bed and tugging her on top of him. She giggled into the kiss and he smiled back.

"Yours forever," he agreed, rolling her onto her back, so glad to have her back in her rightful place -at his side and in his arms.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

#what went wrong #dean x reader #dean winchester #reader-insert #fluff #angst #supernatural #spn

[hauntedsongtaco]

Suptober Day 3: Rainbows

„Dude, can’t we just go home?”, Dean muttered into Sams shoulder. They were pressed against each other in an ocean of glittery, half naked people. Normally, Dean was all for glitter and half naked, but not when it was almost 90°F and 2 pm on a Tuesday.

“No way! I wanna see the next act!”

The brochure Sam got handed yesterday in the street said something about a drag queen throwing knives, and for whatever reason Sam had insisted on coming here. Dean had originally planned on waiting in the car, a safe distance from the pride village, but his stomach betrayed him after 10 minutes of smelling all kinds of delicious street food.

When Dean let out an annoyed grunt and rolled his eyes for the twentieth time that day, Sam lost his patience.

“Why don’t you just go and find some more of those churros to stuff yourself with. I’ll meet ya at the gate in 10 minutes”, he snapped.

Dean shot him a sarcastic grin and squeezed his way through the crowd. It was bad enough that he had to loose his jacket because of the heat, now his arms would be glittery for the next month. He finally found a group of flag waving, laughing people that he could follow behind and out of the stage area. The food court left more space for him to walk and he took a deep breath.

He didn’t understand why Sam wanted to come here so desperately. Maybe he needed some distraction after their last hunt; they couldn’t save the stupid teenager who let himself get turned into a vampire and when he had attacked Sam, well… It wasn’t s difficult choice but it didn’t leave them unfazed.

Dean shook of the guilt with a roll of his shoulders and focused his mind on more urgent matters. Churros. He deserved them after spending an hour squeezed between leather straps and nipple patches.

He took the bag of deep-fried goods with a grateful smile from the young woman and found himself a fence to sit on. It might have possibly been the quietest place in the whole village and Dean enjoyed the silence for a minute. He was getting old after all, and even though he would never admit it, the loud music was giving him a headache. Some of the churros were filled with jam and some with nougat and Dean couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how much Jack would love these. For a second he considered saving one for Jack, but he decided that cold churros tasted like sad clowns so he had to finish them all by himself.

As he was stuffing the last churro on his mouth, he noticed a guy sitting across the lawn, leaning against a tree. And smiling at him. Dean froze for a second. Was the guy…No. People can be friendly for the sake of it. He wasn’t being checked out. He couldn’t be, he had a mouth full of deep-fried dough and his hands were covered in jam. He shook his head in disbelieve about his egocentric thoughts and tried to smile at the guy in response, though it probably looked quite horrible, considering his puffed-out cheeks.

But the guy seemed to get the idea because Dean could make out the movement of the guys shoulders as he chuckled. Dean was pleased with himself. No reason to panic just because someone offered a kind smile. He began to wipe his hands on the stack of napkins he wisely brought with him, when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes. The guy was scribbling something down and got up to get back to the party, Dean assumed. That assumption was disproven when he suddenly felt the presence of another human in his space.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Dean stared up at the man with wide eyes, his hands stopped in the middle of the wiping motion. The guy was almost as tall as Dean, with messy black hair and a five o’clock shadow. His eyes, Dean realized, now that they were face to face, were differently coloured behind his glasses. One was strikingly blue, almost white and the other was as dark and green as moss.

It took Dean a minute to tear his eyes away from those of the stranger, who was just smiling at him with an amused expression on his face. He then reached up to Deans face and gently wiped away some jam that was stuck on the corner of his mouth. Dean was so surprised by the intimate motion, he was back to staring and if his breath might have hitched, the guy didn’t let on whether he noticed.

“You have something on you face.”

His voice was deep and smoky and send a shudder down Deans spine. Internally, he slapped himself for his reaction, or the mere lack of it, if he was being honest. Normally, he would turn on his charm and tell Sammy to get a cap to the motel, but for some reason his brain had decided to just not function today.

Somehow, he managed to gulp down the doughy mush and choked out a “Thanks” before the stranger handed him the napkin with a smile and disappeared in the crowd. For Dean the interaction had seemed to last hours, but in reality it probably were only two minutes. And still he sat there on the fence, like an idiot, still clutching the napkin in his hands and staring at the spot where he last saw the dark hair disappear.

The ringing of his phone snapped him back into the real world and he answered with a grunt. ^

“Dude, where the hell are you?”, Sams shouted into his ear. In the background Dean could hear the music blasting and people cheering.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to get a grip.

“I’m, uh, I’m somewhere at the side, with- with grass ‘n trees? I don’t know.”

“What? Dean, I can barely hear you. Just meet me at the Info point, okay?” Sam shouted and hung up.

Dean let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. This was stupid. He had acted like a fifteen year old virgin with a crush and had missed the opportunity for a nice little pick-me-up. He once again shook his head and hopped of the fence. When he collected his trash, he remembered the napkin the guy had given to him and for whatever reason, he decided to look at it. And there it was. A number scribbled at the corner with a “Aaron” and a heart above it. Dean chuckled to himself. He still got it. Or at least he tried to convince himself that it was his charm and not maybe the dude having a weird eating kink that got him a number. Whichever it was, he took it as a win.

He spotted Sam easily in the crowd, although there were quite a few guys in dangerously high heels walking around. Neither of them dressed like a 17 year old lesbian though, so Sam still stuck out.

He was standing at the desk of the info point, patting himself down and smiling apologetically at the teen next to the register. When Dean pat him on the shoulder, he sighed in relief and turned around.

“You got some cash?”, was all he asked. Dean searched for his wallet and peeked at the object Sam wanted to purchase.

“The hell is this? You got a zebra kink of something?”

Sam gave him his best bitch face and unfolded the black and white piece of fabric. Except it wasn’t all black and white. In the middle, there was a triangle in rainbow colours.

“It’s an ally flag, Dean. Now give me the money.” But Dean took a look around at the stuff that was put on display in the tent. A huge pile of differently coloured flags with a legend to all the pride flags next to it, took up most of the space. Dean took a long look at the poster and then grabbed one of the plastic bags. He turned back to his brother, when his eye got caught by one of the nick-nacks next to the register. With a grin he took it and put it next to his brothers flag.

When the sat down in the car, Dean couldn’t ignore Sams curious stares anymore.

“What?”

“Nothing”, Sam tried to keep down a smile.

“Just wondered what you got for yourself.”

Without looking at him, Dean pulled the pink, blue and purple flag out of the bag and threw it in Sams lap.

“That one’s for me”, he muttered and ground his teeth when he felt the embarrassed blush creep up his neck. Quickly, he pulled out the last item in the bag and held it up. It was a headband with a fluffly, rainbow-coloured halo atop of it, which bounced around crazily as Dean shook it.

“This one’s for Cas.”

#suptober21 #fic #supernatural #suptober2021 #sam winchester #deanwinchtser #bi dean #queer cas #sam is an ally #spn #spn fic

[sbtlns]

Tiny Dancer

Warnings: smut (!) kind of a crack fic 

A/N: so uh we all agree that the finale was trash right? aight just checkin. anyways i reality shifted when i had a high fever and lived a version of this so i figured i would make yall live it too. part two?

Castiel’s cheeks flushed as you moved to straddle the naked angel. His hand moved instinctively to your waist, holding you close as you leaned down to nip at his ear. He groaned at your action, sending a new wave of heat to your core. You continued your ministrations, nipping and sucking at the tender parts of his neck while the debauched angel squirmed beneath you. “y/n,” he said in a strained voice. You stopped your actions to look down at him, meeting his desperate look. You cocked an eyebrow, prompting him to spit it out. “Please,” he strained, raising his hips to meet yours. Deciding you had tortured him enough, you raised your hips slightly and reached beneath you to align him with your entrance. Before you sunk down on him, you gave him one more ‘are-you-sure?’ type of look. He nodded vehemently and you smiled to yourself, returning your focus to his hardened member slightly probing your entrance. You lowered yourself onto him slowly, savoring the way he stretched you out. He moaned a string of your name, each seeming more urgent. “Cas,” you gasped.  “y/n.....Y/N.....Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, the sound of Dean yelling your name and pounding on your door startling you to say the least. “Yeah?” you croaked, trying to regain your composure. Dean sighed from the other side of the door, finally, he thought, only took five minutes. “We’ve got a case. Map Room in 5,” he said gruffly. Sensing your annoyance, he added, “Sam made coffee.” 

With the promise of coffee, you begrudgingly got out of your bed, shoving the remnants of your dream to the back corner of your mind. You had known Cas for quite some time now, long enough to know that he doesn’t understand human feelings well, let alone romantic feelings. That’s why you decided to try and bury the small crush you had developed for him, which was becoming increasingly harder with the dreams you had been having recently.

Sighing, you got dressed and made your way to the Map Room where you were met with a grumpy looking Dean and a smiling Sam. “Coffee,” Sam said, reaching from his seat to hand you a fresh mug. You were about to thank him when Dean cut you off, “I said 5, not 7.” You threw him a bitch face before turning back to Sam and mouthing thank you, and he smiled in response. You sat down across from Sam as Cas walked in, looking a bit flustered. 

“Sorry I’m late, I was caught up in another matter,” he rushed, making his way through the room to join you at the table. “ ‘S alright, Cas, no sweat,” Dean replied, sitting down with a grunt, across from you and Castiel. “Hold up, I got here before Cas why does he get a ‘no worries Cas,’” you mocked in a high pitched voice, “while I get a ‘how dare you be two minutes late,’” you said in you best gruff Dean voice. Sam almost spit out his coffee, earning a huff of annoyance from Dean. “Maybe because Cas didn’t make me bang on his door for five minutes while he was off in dreamland” he countered. Your face blushed at the mention of dreaming, trying not to think of the hot sex scene you had just dreamt about the angel next to you. “Whatever” you huffed, “let’s just get on to the case, yeah?” 

Sam nodded, pulling up his laptop. “So get this, reports of cattle mutilations, power outages, and now three missing persons reports all in y/h/t. I’m thinking demons. What about you guys?” Dean nodded, sipping at his coffee. “Sounds like our kinda thing” he replied. Castiel nodded silently in agreement. Sam turned to face you, “y/n, thoughts?” Your heart was beating fast and you were sure your cheeks were red. Sam looked at you with furrowed brows. “Hey, you good?” he asked concerned. You forced a smile and nodded, realizing now that the three men were all staring at you. You cleared your throat before saying, “Yeah, it’s just...that’s my hometown is all.” You sighed, “You’re right, sounds like demons though,” you added quickly before taking another sip of coffee. The three men shared a quick glance.

“Um,” Sam started uneasily, “You gonna be okay taking this case?” he asked genuinely. You hadn’t shared much about your past with the boys, nodding and laughing at the stories about their past they told you and quickly changing the subject before anyone could ask about yours. You nodded curtly, raising the mug to your lips again. Memories of your past filled your mind, not totally unpleasant, but enough to make you uneasy about returning to your hometown. You were silently hoping that you could get in kill whatever douchebag demons were causing havoc, and get out without having to deal with anything dealing with your old job. 

Sam didn’t seem convinced. “You sure? I mean we could always call Garth and see-” “I’m sure,” you cut him off. You stood from your chair abruptly, causing the legs to squeak unpleasantly. “I’ll get packed and meet you guys in the garage,” you said before turning on your heel and making your way to your room. You grabbed a bag and filled it with the essentials, glancing at the pair of cowboy boots sitting long ignored in your closet. You sighed to yourself, remembering happier moments from your old job, before management became a shit show. Feeling nostalgic, you decided to throw the boots in your bag before zipping it and heading to the garage.

The boys were already chatting by the car when you made your way to the garage. You threw your bag in the trunk, closed it, and climbed in the back of Baby, the boys following suit. On the drive to your hometown, Dean sheepishly handed you a stack of cassettes, his way of apologizing for earlier. You beamed back at him and picked out your favorites, handing them to Sam to queue up. Not before long, your eyelids grew heavy and you drifted off to sleep in the backseat. 

Dean must’ve hit a bump, because you woke up with a start, disoriented for a moment. It took a second for you to realize that in your sleep, you had laid your head on Castiel’s shoulder, close enough to him so that you were practically draped along his side. You quickly scrambled back to your side of the car, not missing the soft smile and forlorn look Cas had given you. “Oh look, sleeping beauty’s awake,” Dean joked. You stuck your tongue out at him, settling back into your seat. “So y/n, we found out that all three vics have something in common, they’re all regulars at some place called The Saloon” Sam filled you in, placing a Southern drawl on the name of your past employer. 

Your blood ran ice cold and you stared back at him with wide eyes. He was still smiling, pleased with himself for his accent, when he realized you were panicking. The smile dropped from his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, drawing Dean and Castiel’s attention. Dean shot you a confused glance from the rearview. “What’s wrong princess? Don’t like linedancing?” he joked. You gulped. “Um,” you started. “I uh...” you cleared your throat. “I used to work there,” you mumbled. Sam raised his eyebrows in amusement and Dean fought back a laugh. “Wha-you,” he wheezed, struggling not to burst out laughing. “Our very own tiny dancer, huh?” he mused. You huffed and crossed your arms across your chest, cheeks burning red. Sam turned back around in his seat, holding his laughter in with a smile. Castiel broke the silence, “I don’t understand, is it shameful to dance in a line?” With that, the boys couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out into fits of laughter.

The rest of the drive wasn’t too bad, besides Dean’s off-tune humming of Elton John’s Tiny Dancer. You pulled into town and checked into the nearest motel, silently thanking the universe that Dean had booked two separate rooms. You might have offed yourself then and there if you had to spend another night listening to Sam’s snores. After settling in, you got dressed in your FBI best and met back by the car. The four of you drove to The Saloon, you becoming more and more anxious the closer you got. Dean pulled up to the gravel lot and took in the building with an amazed look. He kept his eyes on the building as he got out of the car, “Oh ho ho, get look at this,” he said incredulously. Before you stood a massive red barn with a huge blinking neon sign of a half naked woman riding a bull with a lasso spinning in her hand. 

“Yeah yeah, let’s just get this over with,” you huffed, pushing past him and walking into the bar. The familiar scent of beer and cigarettes hit you the second you walked in, taking in the sight of the huge stage in front of you along. A few girls were dancing on stage, with a handful of customers sitting and watching. You heard the door open behind you as the boys stepped in and sighed before turning to face them. Dean looked like a kid on Christmas smiling widely and looking around the bar, while Sam scanned the room looking for the owners. Cas stood in place, staring perplexed at the women dancing. You followed his gaze to the stage where one of the girls was swinging her hips slowly and deliberately to the beat of the song. You turned back to him, his head cocked to the side as he mumbled, “Well that’s inappropriate.”

Trying to hide the blush creeping to your cheeks, you quickly turned back around, just in time to see your old manager strutting towards you. You took a deep breath, ready for the coming bullshit. “Well well well,” he said with a smug smirk on his face. “If it isn’t Miss Daisy Duke herself.” You felt your cheeks get hot and heard Dean snort. “I’m sorry,” Dean said, looking at you like this was too good to be true. “Daisy Duke?” he repeated. Your cheeks were burning by this point, praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. 

“That’s right,” your old manager said in his chill inducing Southern drawl. “You know how it goes, ‘nice legs...daisy dukes...makes a man go-’” he whistled, finishing the line and turning your cheeks an even deeper red. “Miss Daisy here was our pride and joy,” he said, turning to Dean. “Best dance this bar has ever seen,” he finished, turning back to you. He smiled devilishly at you, humming in contentment. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Daisy?” he asked sickeningly sweetly. Fighting to hold on to whatever shred of dignity you had left, you pulled out your fake badge and held it up. “It’s Agent Jett now, thanks,” you spat, flashing it in his face before putting it back in your jacket pocket. He squinted back at you. Sam cleared his throat in attempt to break the tension before telling him about the missing persons reports. Your old boss soaked in the information Sam was giving him, but stayed silent, still squinting at you. 

Sam looked uncomfortably between the two of you before clearing his throat again and asking, “Do you have any security cameras that might have caught anything? Any possible witnesses?” Your old boss shifted his glance to Sam and replied, “Maybe.” Sam stared back, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, Dean cut in. “Maybe?” he asked gruffly with an eyebrow cocked. Your old boss nodded, pursing his lips together. “Depends,” he stated simply, crossing his arms. You could tell Dean was losing his patience quickly because he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “On what?” he asked, voice tight. Your old boss simply shrugged. “On if Miss Daisy will give us another show tonight.”

Your jaw dropped open. Did he say what you thought he said? Sam, Dean, and Cas all turned to stare at you, trying to gauge your reaction. Dean looking more amused than anything, and Sam trying to see whether or not he had to step in between you. “I’m sorry, what?” you croaked. Your old boss gave you the same devilish smile that sent chills down your spine. “I said,” he took another step closer to you, “I’ll talk...if you would grace The Saloon with one last dance. For old time’s sake.” The three boys looked at you expectingly. You looked incredulously among them. “You can’t be serious,” you protested.

He was. You found yourself back in your motel room, changing out of your FBI clothes and into your shortest denim shorts and your most revealing tanktop. You silently cursed yourself for packing your boots, as it seemingly jinxed you into your current situation. After you were changed, you fell back into your old routine of hair and makeup, becoming almost unrecognizable in the mirror. As you were applying the last bit of hairspray, you heard a knock at your door. “Y/n, we gotta go!” you heard Dean yell. Sighing, you slipped into your boots, took one last look in the mirror, and summoned the courage to open the door. 

When you opened the door, it took them a second to react, all three reacting differently. Sam looked at you with raised brows and an amused smile, Dean whistled, and Castiel’s eyes widened before slowly trailing down your body. You felt yourself blush under his scrutiny, until it became unbearable and you snapped your fingers in his face. “My eyes are up here buddy,” you feigned anger, startling him from his trance. “I-uh m-my apologies, y/n” he stumbled over his words, looking down at his feet. Dean laughed and clapped his shoulder before walking towards Baby.

The drive over was silent, with the occasional ‘heh’ from Dean, as he thought about the ridiculousness of this day. You dreaded every mile he drove closer to the bar, wondering why Castiel couldn’t have just used his angel powers to make your old boss cough up whatever info he had. You sighed as Dean pulled up to the bar once again and begrudgingly opened your car door. “Did you guys really have to come?” you whined, trying to stall. “Of course we did princess. What if the demons are here tonight?” Dean said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at the excuse. Sam turned to you with a look of pity. “Seriously though, y/n, if you’re uncomfortable at any point just say the word. We’ll leave and we can find another way to get the information,” he said and smiled softly. You nodded and sighed before making your way into the barn.

You opened the door and to your dismay, the place was packed. You groaned as you stepped further in before you made eye contact with one of your old coworkers. “Y/n?” she said shocked, a huge smile forming on her face. “Jimmy said you were coming but I didn’t believe him, no one did,” she said before pulling you into a huge hug. You relaxed into the hug, her being one of the very few people in town that you still kept in contact with. “Yeah well,” you said pulling back. “One night only kinda thing,” you finished, choosing to ignore the way her and Dean were eye-fucking next to you. She turned her attention back to you and took your hand. “Well, we better get you stage ready, Jimmy’s queuing up your signature!” she said excitedly, pulling you away. You threw a quick glance behind you at the boys before realization dawned on you. “Hey!” you yelled back to them, getting their attention. “Do NOT sit in this section!” you tried to point to the front left, but your friend was pulling you too fast and they just gave you confused looks. 

Before you knew it, you were back stage, pacing with anxiety. You heard the current song stop and you dreaded what was coming. “Ladies and gentlemen,” you heard Jimmy’s chilling voice draw out. “Please give a big Saloon welcome...returning back to the stage... Miss Daisy Duke!” You shoved your nerves down and forced a smile before strutting out on stage. You quickly fell back into your old routine, strutting around the stage and swaying your hips to your opening music. One dance and that’s all you said to yourself. You knew that from the song Jimmy had chosen, your signature, that in the middle of the routine you would have to go down to the audience and dance for whoever the spotlight shown on. You continued your dance, praying that the boys had listened to you and had chosen anywhere else to sit. As the part of the song drew closer, you scanned the audience to gauge about who you would be giving a lapdance to. Dean raised his hand to catch your scanning eyes, with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him. You rolled your eyes before realizing that they hadn’t taken your warning and had sat in that section. 

You shot him a death glare before turning back to your dance, hoping that the spotlight would shine on anyone but them. The drunken cheers and whistles from the crowd were just about the only thing keeping you from running off stage and straight to the motel. You heard the cue in the music, prompting you to saunter down the main steps and into the audience. Sighing to yourself, you grabbed the mic and made your way to the steps. The music stopped, prompting your lines. “Gentlemen,” you said with your best honeyed Southern accent. “It’s one of your lucky nights” you finished, and the music started back up. You felt all eyes on you and tried to keep yourself from freaking out as you continued your routine. You heard the third cue in the music as the spotlight came down. You held your breath, praying that it would land anywhere but where it did. To your horror, it landed on Castiel.

Fuck you thought. The angel looked utterly confused, looking up and around him, completely thrown off by the sudden wash of light encompassing him. If it was possible, Dean’s smile grew even wider as he excitedly looked to Cas and clapped him on the shoulder. Castiel looked at him through furrowed brows, before following his gaze to you. You locked eyes with the bewildered angel, walking over to him as sexy as you could. A surge of confidence filled you when you saw his Adam’s apple bob and his jaw clench. In accordance with your routine, you walked right up to Castiel and kneeled in front of him, gently nudging his knees apart so you could settle between them. Castiel looked down at you with wide eyes, throat bobbing once more.

“And what might your name be, handsome?” you said into the mic, part of the routine. You held the mic out to Cas, which made him even more confused as he stared into your eyes, searching for any clue as to why you were asking for his name. The music was stopped again, waiting for his reply. Dean elbowed him, prompting him to answer. “Uh... Cas-Castiel,” he finally spat out. You mouthed a quick I’m so sorry and gave him an apologetic look before standing up and saying “Well, Castiel, I’ve got a special treat for you.” The music came back on and you handed the mic off to a stagehand, before turning back to Cas. 

With the spotlight still on him, you sauntered over to Castiel, swaying your hips to the music along the way. He sat unnaturally still, legs still apart from when you spread them, just barely exposing the small bulge beginning to form in his pants. You felt heat pool in your core at the sight, struggling to keep your focus on the routine. You made your way back in front of him, before turning away from him to swing your hips to the music. Turning back around, you saw him watching your movements closely, his once bright blue eyes now dark, pupils blown out from lust. You swallowed before placing your hands on his shoulders and climbing onto his lap. This surprised him, as his breath caught in his throat and his hands flew instinctively to your hips. You leaned in to whisper “don’t touch, the bodyguards won’t allow it.” He ripped hands off of you as if your skin burned him and he looked up at you with wide eyes.

You began grinding against him, moving your hips to the music and gaining more drunken cheers, one distinctively from Dean, earning him a smack on the back of his head from his younger brother. Castiel couldn’t care less about the audience, you had his undivided attention. He couldn’t help the noises coming from the back of his throat, nor could he seem to keep his vessel under control. His hands twitched at his sides, desperate to touch you. You felt him becoming harder and harder, making it more difficult for you to stay focused on your routine. You climbed off his lap, danced in front of him some more, and then sat back down, this time facing away from him. You ground you ass against his hardened member, earning a low moan from the angel. You felt your panties dampening, enjoying this just as much as he was. You continued grinding against him to the music, the crowd continuing to cheer, and Castiel continuing to squirm beneath you. 

Once more, you stood up from him, danced more of your routine, and straddled the utterly debauched angel. You worked hard to avoid eye contact, but slipped up and locked eyes with Castiel. To your delight, he donned the same desperate look from the dream you had earlier that morning. You shifted your hips to grind against him, causing his head to fall back to his shoulders and his mouth to part slightly. More heat pooled in your core the more you ground against him, a coil starting to form in your belly. Fuck you thought to yourself. Luckily, the fourth and final cue came in the music, signaling your return to the stage. You breathed a sigh of relief, climbed off of him, and pecked his cheek before sauntering back to the stage to finish the song. From the stage, you watched Castiel shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying and failing to conceal his tented slacks. 

Finally, the song ended and you blew a kiss to the crowd before skipping off stage, thankful to be done. While you were chatting with some of the girls, Dean came to get you, trying to hide his amusement as he told you Sam had gotten the tapes from Jimmy. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad that this night was over. Dean walked you back out to the car, where Sam and Cas were waiting. Cas looked up hearing footsteps, and his eyes widened when they met yours. He quickly looked down and avoided your stare until you got back to the car. The four of you got in silently and sat for a moment before you heard Dean breathe in as if he was about to say something. 

“Don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t want to hear anything about tonight ever again. Capiche?” Dean muttered something under his breath and Sam gave you a tight nod, eager to also forget the events of the night. You took a deep breath and turned to Cas. “Castiel,” you began, and you could’ve sworn you saw him flinch at your words. “I really am sorry. I wasn’t expecting it to land on you, I told you three not to sit there..” you trailed off. He couldn’t meet your gaze. Instead he nodded and replied, “Our apologies for not realizing your meaning.” His eyes momentarily flicked up to yours before landing back down into his lap. You followed his gaze, and he seemingly noticed, as he once again shifted in his seat, trying to conceal the still obvious bulge.

This was going to be a fun ride back. 

#castiel #cas #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel x reader smut #castiel fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural crack

[deanwastherealmonster]

I headcanon that Jack gave Sam hero's luck but not Dean because he wanted Sam to be free of Dean's bullshit.

#anti dean winchester #dean critical #can we just throw dean away? #oh wait we did #we just threw the whole dean in the trash #dean is rotting #dean was the real monster of that show #team amy's son gets the revenge he promised dean #team rusty nail #supernatural #dean abused Sam #dean abused jack #dean abused castiel #dean abuses everyone in his life at some point

[supernatural-love14]

Is That All I Am To You?

Summary: Thinking that her and Dean are exclusive, the Reader is proved wrong when Dean tells another hunter that they are only friends…

Warnings: The tiniest bit of fluff (and I seriously mean tiny). some serious ANGST. No happy ending. Arguing. Language. Crying. Lots of crying… 

Word Counts: 1,682

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Former Dean x Reader

PROMPT: Is that all I am to you?

A/N: This is for the @jawritter​ 1500 Follower Challenge - Jen’s Make Me Cry Challenge - here’s the masterlist to it. 

MAIN MASTERLIST  ~  SERIES MASTERLIST  ~ ONESHOT MASTERLIST

Four years. Four years that I have known Dean Winchester. Two years that we have been dating. At first it started out as a friends with benefits thing, which I was completely fine with if it meant I could spend time with Dean. But then it started to get serious, he started to take me on dates. We’d go to restaurants - just me and him, go play crazy golf, go on walks, stuff that couples would do. 

A year down the line of the relationship, Dean gives me space in his room for clothes. Not that it really mattered if I had a drawer or not in his room considering my room was only down the hall. But most of the time I would sleep in his room, with his arms protectively wrapped around me as we slept. 

Even Sam believed we were dating, it felt like we were dating - like it was all real. But I was so wrong, that I didn’t even realise that everything Dean had ever promised me was a lie. I should have seen it coming. Like come on, it’s Dean freaking Winchester. The one who gets around with all the women, never settling down, never dating anyone because it would have the worst outcome. 

How couldn’t I have seen this? Why couldn’t I have stopped myself from falling for his charm years ago? I feel so naive and gullible. I know now that I can’t ever believe anything that man says. Ever again. 

I have to leave, I have to get out of here. 

5 Hours Earlier…

Meeting Sam at the bar, Dean and I walk in with his arm “possessively” wrapped around my waist, warding off any guys that would even think to get close to me. Sam sat in one of the corner booths of the bar far away from anyone. To everyone it looked like we were together, technically we were. 

Joining Sam at the table, I was sat next to Dean leaning my head on his shoulder while he had one of his arms wrapped around mine. It was so clear to everyone that we were more than just friends. The lingering touches, the featherlight kisses on the forehead. Even the way he looked at me suggested that there was more than friendship. For the first time in a long time, there were no girls even attempting to flirtatiously glance his way. They knew he was taken. They didn’t even try to come over to get his attention, they knew they wouldn’t get it. 

“Any new cases, Sammy?” Dean asked, as he grabbed onto one of the many beer bottles that was brought over to them, taking a large gulp of it. 

“Man, I’ve looked but nothing so far, a whole bunch of others have taken cases and there’s just nothing at the moment.”

“Do they need any help?” Dean asked, clearly needing something to keep him occupied but Sam quickly shook his head.

“I’ve already asked, but you know what hunters are like, they’ve got their own partners to help them and they don’t need three extra hunters. But I’ll keep looking for cases, I guess we can just take this time off that we never get round to having.” Sam explained, lifting his own beer to drink, his eyes scanning the bar before noticing someone staring at them. “Hey, we’re being watched.”

“What… by who?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never seen him before, he’s just intensely looking at us from the bar.” I turn around to see the man sitting at the bar. Once he see’s me looking at him, he smiles. Gasping I realise who it is. “Y/n, you know who that is?”

“Yeah… my ex.” Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Dean slightly turns to see the guy who is staring at you. 

“Bad ending?” Sam asked with concern, his eyes shifting from you to your ex and then to Dean. 

“Not really. He’s not… a hunter. And it was a long time ago.” You started to explain to the boys. 

“Are you going to go over?” Dean asked, masking his emotions with a straight face.

“Should I?” Looking up at him, trying to get a read on him but failing miserably. 

Gulping, Dean looked from you to your ex before looking back at you. “Y/n, he’s clearly here to see you. You should go over there.”

“But I’m here with you guys… It’s fine, really. I’m with you. I have no reason to see him. It didn’t end well last time I saw him, which was when we broke up.”

“Did he know about the hunting life?” 

“Yeah, that’s the main reason we broke it off.” I lie easily, not really wanting to explain my past.

“Maybe he’s trying to get you back, maybe he’s ok with you being a hunter.”

“Dean! I’m with you, I don’t need to go back with my ex… I’m already taken.” 

“Yeah but we’re not really together, together…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your voice slightly, hoping this isn’t where it’s really going.

“Dean, st-“ Sam started to say before Dean interrupted him. 

“We’re only friends with benefits.”

“So, what two years of being together - friends with benefits or not, and not once id you think that with all your actions showed that this was more than friends with benefits. You don’t take a friend with benefits on dates. Let me guess in all of this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing, you’ve been seeing other people haven’t you?” 

“Y/n…I’m sorry that you thought there was more to this-“

“No. What you did was lead me on. I’m going back to the bunker.” Getting up from my seat, I quickly grab my stuff before heading out towards the door. My ex immediately heading towards me, and I couldn’t even stop the eye roll from forming. 

“Hey, Y/n. It’s been a while.” He stops in front of me, blocking me from the exit and now i’m suddenly remembering why we broke up in the first place. Anyone would think that we broke up because I was in the hunting life and he was not, something normal. But no, this cheating bastard thinks he has the audacity to think we will pick things up where it was left.

“Yeah, I guess. How’s Amanda?” 

“Andrea, was her name.”

“OH right, that so silly of me to get the name mixed up of the girl you threw me away for.” I said bitterly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Y/n, at the time we weren’t really together.” You could just feel like your brain wanted to explode at that very second, what was with men and not telling you what the relationship status was. Was it that hard to talk for them to talk to me? And why did I have such bad luck with men!?

“Yeah, I remember, I remember you so clearly saying that as you were banging that chick in our bedroom of the house we brought together!” 

“Y/n…” He started to say grabbing my arm slightly to pull me towards him, before I so rudely pushed it away. “Don’t be like this. Remember all the fun we had together.”

“No. I don’t. Now if you excuse me, I have to leave. I’ve dealt with dickheads all evening.” 

“Hey, don’t go. Come on, catch up with me.”

“No. I’m not going down that path again. What happened between me and you is now over. It’s been over for years.” Clearly not getting the message, he pulls me roughly towards him, before I kick him in the balls. I didn’t even realise one of the Winchester boys were behind me before Sam pulled me back away from my dick of an ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, she clearly said no. So leave her alone.” Sam defended, a glare placed on his face, I turned slightly to see where Dean was but seeing him at the other end of the bar chatting up a chick just made my blood boil. Here I was clearly struggling to get rid of my ex and he’s over there throwing what little we had left away like trash. From this moment I knew it was over. I knew we would never be together. And I knew I had to leave for good. No more would I fall for men like him. 

I could feel my eyes tearing up, blinking rapidly to hold them back from falling. My ex now left the area of the bar as Sam watched me with concern. “I’m going back to the bunker.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get some sleep.” 

“Ok…just call me to let me know you got back ok.”

“Of course.” Lying through my teeth as I give Sam a quick hug. With him never realising that this would be the last time he would see me. I leave the bar quickly heading back to place which will no longer be my home. 

After 5 hours I had packed my things, grabbed anything and everything I had in Dean’s room and my old room to put into my car. My old car was sitting in the garage, where it had been left since the day I moved in here. I never really needed it when I had moved in, I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my face as I realise how much I will miss this place. The memories that I thought were good now turned to ash and dust. 

I will move on from Dean Winchester. Sitting behind the wheel just made it all too real as Dean will never know how much I loved him but I have to leave, I can’t stay here knowing that he will never fully be with me not after everything that I now know. He’ll never know what he truly missed out on, holding a hand to my flat stomach, the life that was slowly growing inside of me. Dean will never know that he would have a child. Because he will never find me. Not ever again.

IF YOUR NAME IS CROSSED OUT IT MEANS I CANNOT TAG YOU FOR SOME REASON. ALSO FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED!

Forever Tags:

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#jensmakemecrychallenge #angst #dean #dean winchester #sad #no happy ending

[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

#SPN 1x06 #amispnrewatch #reclaiming spn #performing!dean #lawboy #bi!dean #dean x cassie #dean x lee #stiles stilinski #void!stiles #teen wolf #dean deserved better

[thequeenofsastiel]

Love that it's been over a year since Supernatural ended and there are still new people popping up being like "Damn Dean was an abusive misogynist wtf".

#anti dean winchester #dean critical #dean negative #dean abuses everyone in his life at some point #it's not okay just because dean is attractive #can we just throw dean away? #oh wait we did #we just threw the whole dean in the trash #dean is rotting #dean was the real monster of that show

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Spencer Reid x reader

Request: You’re being interviewed about a potential unsub by two handsome FBI agents, but the tall, baby faced, tie and sweater wearing man has caught your attention. 

// Anon request:  Hey I saw your requests were open! I really like your series about Reid and I thought a series or one shot about baby season one Reid and Morgan going to a bar to interview women about an unsub and the woman they ask is super pretty and kinda has everyone’s attention but just like shamelessly flirts with Reid and ignores everyone else lol. //

A/N: baby season 1 Reid is just precious. I can see him getting super flustered and embarrassed about the attention from such a pretty woman then Morgan teasing him about it. Ugh so cute. Thank you for your request!! xx 

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural: (I’m only up to season 2 at the moment, so please don’t give requests with spoilers)***

Sam Winchester 

Dean Winchester 

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNER 

You grabbed the beer bottles off the bar and threw them in the trash, then began wiping the bar top off. Only a few more hours and your shift would be over and you could go home. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted two men take a seat at the bar, “I’ll be with you in a moment.” 

You threw your rag in the trash and washed your hands then approached the men, “What can I get you boys?” You set two cocktail napkins in front of them and got a good look at the two men. Both were handsome but the one with the baby face, who pushed his glasses up on his nose was the one who caught your attention. This was not his scene and he stuck out like a sore thumb. His hair was slicked back and parted. He wore a sweater over a button up top and a tie tucked in the sweater. 

The dark skinned man pulled something out of his pocket and flashed his badge, “FBI. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Can we ask you a few questions?”

Doctor? He looked a little young to be a doctor. You leaned against the bar, raking your eyes over Spencer and then smirking, “Aren’t you a little young to be a doctor?” 

Spencer’s face immediately turned red and stammering out a response, “I-I’m not that kind of doctor. I have three Ph.D.s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.”  

You nodded, impressed, “That’s impressive, Dr. Reid.” 

“Thank you.. I can also read 20,000 words per minute and I have an I.Q of 187.” He flashed a smile and you laughed a little. He was just precious. 

Morgan looked between the two of you and smirked a little at Reid, “Anyways.” Derek spoke, “Can we have a minute of your time to ask questions?” 

“Sure. Anything for the handsome doctor.” You smiled at Spencer, who blushed and pushed his glasses on his face, running his hand over his hair. 

Derek began asking about if you’d seen a man who kept to himself and would get embarrassed by talking to women, but would come in here often and sit for hours. Never meeting anyone and kept his eyes on the women around the bar. 

You knew exactly who he was talking about, “Yeah, there is one guy who comes in all the time. But I don’t know his name.” You glanced at the end of the bar, “He always sits at the end of the bar.” 

“Yeah, that’s the perfect spot for him to view the whole bar.” Spencer says, looking around at the bar. “When does he come in?” 

You turned around and looked at the clock behind you before turning back to the men, “Usually around 6.” 

Derek turns to Spencer and gives a small smirk, “That’s only in a few hours. How about you stay here and wait for the unsub and I’ll head back to the precinct to help the team?” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide, “What? Why?” The thought of Spencer having to stay at the bar alone with the most beautiful woman, terrified him. 

Derek’s eyes glance at you and then back at Spencer, “Well, to see if the unsub comes here, of course.” He chuckles, patting Spencer on the back, “Call if he shows up.” Then he walks out of the bar leaving you and Spencer alone. 

“You know I won’t bite.” You say, laughing, grabbing him a beer and sliding it over to him. 

“I didn’t..I didn’t order one.” He says, looking at the beer and back at you. 

“I know, but you’re in a bar. And you need to look the part.” You make your way around the bar to him at the stool. “Face me.” 

He turns in the stool, facing you, “What are you doing?” He asks as your hands go to his sweater. Usually, he hated people to touch him, but for you, he’d let you do anything to him.

“Look, you stick out like sore thumb here. If that guy walks in and sees you like this, he’ll know something is up.” You begin unbuttoning his sweater, smirking as you see him gulp. You were making him nervous and you loved the hell out of it. 

He slips the sweater off, “What about now? Do I still stick out?”  

You step back to get a good look at him and tilt your head, “Take off the tie and unbutton your shirt a couple buttons.” 

He glances down at his tie before looking at you, which you nod, “Go ahead.” His hands fiddle with the top button of his shirt, having issues. 

You step closer to him, “Let me help.” 

His eyes look everywhere but yours as you unbutton the buttons for him. You laugh softly, “Never had a girl undress you before?” 

He gulps a little, “Not one as beautiful as you.” He breaths out, finally looking at you. You blush and pat the shirt, “There. Now you fit in.” Taking his things, you return back behind the bar and put his stuff with yours. 

~ 

You spend the next few hours working behind the bar, doing your job, but anytime you were free, you spoke with Spencer. Finally, the man you were talking about comes in. You make your way to Spencer, who is still sipping on the first beer you gave him, “That’s the guy I was talking about.” You motion behind Spencer who turns and spots the guy walking through the crowd and taking a seat at the bar. 

“Okay, let me call Morgan.” He pulls out his phone and steps off the stool, making his way to the exit. 

You walk over to the guy to take his order then serve a few other people before your shift is up. You grab your things from under the counter, “Hey, Mary, if that guy that was sitting here comes back, tell him his things are under the counter.”  Mary nods, “Ok, y/n, have a good night!” 

You smile, “you two!” You walk out the back, digging through your bag for your keys, “Where the hell are my keys?” You mumble, stopping to continue looking through your bag. Multitasking was not your strong suit. 

~

When Spencer arrives back at the bar, he sees your gone. He can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. He enjoyed your company and he was going to ask you out on a date if he could gather the courage. He sadly sighed before his eyes wandered to the end of the bar. The man who was seated there has vacated.  Oh no. He quickly rushes up the bartender who took your place, “The woman who worked here, y/n, where did she go?” He couldn’t take the chance, he had to make sure you were safe. 

“You just missed her.” Mary says motioning to the exit. 

Spencer quickly rushes out of the exit, glances around the alley. You’re no where in sight. Your purse and belongings are tossed around the alley. Then he hears it, a faint scream. He quickly dials Morgan, “Morgan, we’re around back, he’s got another victim.” He runs towards the scream and finds the man dragging you by your hair, a gun against your back. 

You scream and thrash against the mans grasp, “Let go of me!” The man stops and back hands you, “Shut the hell up!” The slap is enough to send you to the pavement. 

“FBI, freeze!” Spencer yells, his gun pointed directly at the man. 

If you weren’t in a hostage situation you would have been swooning over Dr. Reid and how sexy he looked. 

The man grabs you and uses you as a shield, the gun going against your temple. You whimper and grip onto the mans arm as it wraps tighter around your neck. 

“Let her go and drop you weapon!” Spencer takes a step closer, his gun still raised. He knows he can’t get a clean shot, not without hitting you. 

“Drop your gun or I-I’ll shoot her!”  The man says, digging the gun against your temple. 

You look at Spencer, eyes filled with tears. He gulps a little, “we know what you’ve done. With all those women. It’s over for you.” He takes another step, seeing the rest of his team sneaking up from behind the man. Morgan nods at Spencer, signally he has a clear shot. 

You scream as a shot goes off. The man’s hold on you releases as he drops against the concrete, a gunshot wound to his shoulder. 

Spencer rushes to you, kicking the gun away from him. He pulls you in his arms and backs away from him, “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He whispers softly against your hair. 

You whimper against Spencer’s chest, “He jumped me in the alley. I was looking through my purse for my keys.” You can feel his heart beating fast through his chest

His hand goes to your back, rubbing in circles, “it’s okay. It’s over.” He pulls back a little to get a good look at you. Your lip is busted and there’s a small cut on your forehead. He gently touches your cheek. “Let’s go get that checked out.” 

You nod as he leads you to the ambulance. He leaves you with the EMT and heads back inside to grab his things, then goes back to his team. After they finish cleaning you up, you walk over to him and the team standing at the SUV, “Hey Dr. Reid.” 

He turns and looks down at you, fixing his hair,“Yeah?” 

“I think I owe you a drink. You know, for saving my life.” Spencer doesn’t say anything, he’s not sure what to say. 

“I’m asking you on a date. It’s a yes or no question.” You laugh softly. 

“Say yes, kid!” Morgan yells from the SUV. 

Spencer turns to the SUV, giving Morgan a look, his face beat red and turns back to you. “Sorry, yes, I would love that.” 

You smile softly before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, “I left my number in your sweater pocket, call me?” You step back from him and he nods, watching you walk away. 

“Pretty boy got him a date with the hot bartender!” Morgan teases as Spencer opens the door to the SUV.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, getting in the back, his things laying in the seat. He grabs his sweater and sure enough, in his pocket is your number. 

*****************************************************************************************************

Hope you enjoyed it! xx 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler x reader #imagines #x reader

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK VIII | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 8! Read Part 7 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Cry Baby - The Neighbourhood.

Past Lives - Børns.

The Few Things - JP Saxe.

Word Count: 2,832.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Senior Year.

Los Angeles, 

California. 

“Not pregnant.”

You fell to your knees, grasping at the air in a fit of relief. You clutched your stomach and gasped for breath. 

“Not pregnant.” Claire repeated, looking at the second test. “Not pregnant.” 

“Fuck!” You shouted. “Thank God!”

Claire broke out into nervous laughter, “Not pregnant! You’re not pregnant!” She squealed. She dropped the tests and ran over to you, kneeling down to embrace you. 

You held each other in a deep hug for a long time. You missed her. You missed her so much. She was your rock. You once thought that when things were going to shit, you wanted Matthew. 

But who you needed was Claire. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to her. 

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry!”

“I was stupid.”

“I was more stupid!”

“I love you, Claire,” you told her. 

“Aw,” she smiled. “I can’t even say...how much...”

“I know,” you nodded. “I know.”

You didn’t go back to Matthew’s. You threw those terrible tests in the trash, scheduled an appointment at the student health center, and subsequently spent all day with your best friend. You spilled your guts. Told her the full Matthew story from beginning to end. It was like a rush of information, a physical rush of word after word after word. And Claire just listened. She chomped down on some twizzlers, dressed in her pajamas, drowning out the movie on in the background. She didn’t speak a word until you were completely finished. 

“Pass the oreos,” she said.

“That’s it?” You laughed. “I tell you all of that and all you say is pass the oreos?”

“I need oreos to properly digest all of this information, duh.” 

You handed her the blue package, which she gladly took and ripped open. Oreo in hand, a little caught between her teeth, she said, “If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

“I know. He knows.”

“I mean it, kid,” she looked you in the eye. “Matthew and I...we just fooled around. You guys passed fooling around a long time ago.”

“I guess...” you shrugged. 

“You guess? [y/n], I know you better than anyone. There’s never been a guy like this. Why...why aren’t you dating?”

You gulped, “Oh.” You looked down at your fingers, “Neither of us ever brought it up. It’s just...too messy. Don’t wanna deal with it. It’s fine.”

“So, you don’t wanna be his girlfriend?”

“I—“ you were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing against the couch. You picked it up to see Matthew’s name flashing on the screen. You declined the call.

Claire watched you set your phone back down, and you recognized the somber look on your face. “Well?” She continued. “Do you?”

After that, you simply refused to continue any kind of Matthew conversation. Claire noticed your sudden urge to keep quiet, and she pulled back on all the questions. 

“So,” you said. “What about you? Seeing anyone?”

She cleared her throat, awkwardly shuffling in her seat.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” You giggled. “Who is it? What’s his name?”

You sighed, “I’ve been meaning to tell you...but you can’t tell anyone, okay? Especially Matthew!”

You put up your hand, palm facing her. “You have my word. Who is it?”

“Roni.”

You sat back against the couch, physically moved by shock. “R-did I hear you right?”

Claire nodded, “Veronica.” 

“Um...yeah...I’m gonna need you to explain.”

She chuckled nervously, “There’s nothing really to explain. Um, we were drunk...and...you were out with Matthew, and I brought her back here. It—it was a total fling. Until...it wasn’t.”

“Holy shit, Claire!” You exclaimed. 

“I know! But, Veronica, she’s so cool. She’s so hot. She likes classic films, and—and she makes jewelry, and...I don’t know, I like her.”

You smiled at Claire, “I can tell.”

“Y’know, her and I are going to LA this spring break. You should come! You and Matthew!”

You cringed, “I don’t know...you want me to ask Matthew to come on a trip with three girls he’s fucked? Can you say awkward?” 

“Just ask him! We’ll invite more people to make it less awkward, and it’s not like we need to be a foursome the whole time. Just, ask. If he says no, he says no. But promise me you’ll ask?”

You sighed, “I promise.”

For the rest of the semester, you spent a very little amount of time with Matthew. Not only did the whole pregnancy scare shake you up, but you also had a lot of lost time to make up with Claire. She kept her distance from Veronica, as well. Both Matthew and her were very understanding, just taking it to means that the best friends needed some alone time. 

You spent winter break with Claire’s family, and came back with a new, restored friendship. She continued to ask if you’d invited Matthew to Los Angeles, and you always found subtle ways to say no. The trip was quickly approaching, but so was your final ballet performance. You channeled all your energy into practicing, perfecting, all while juggling class and Matthew. 

He brought you flowers on opening night, gave you a secret kiss in your dressing room, and told you to go kill it. You did. You put your soul into the performance, everything you had, everything you were. Until you were so tired that you could collapse on stage. Your ballet friends cheered you on as you exited the stage, and you stayed with them briefly before going into your dressing room. 

Beginning to take your makeup off, you heard a knock at the door. You expected Matthew, but your ballet instructor entered. “Oh. Hey! You happy?” You asked her, stepping up to give her a hug. 

“I’m very happy! You did amazing, [y/n], I’m so proud of you. Proud of everything you’ve accomplished here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Oak,” you whispered. 

“And I’m not the only one impressed by you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes...the dean of the department has had her eye on you for a while.”

You tilted your head, “Should I be nervous?”

“No, no, not at all. Actually, she wants to offer you a job.”

You looked at her, stunned, blinking slowly. “A job?”

“Yep. Assistant ballet instructor. It’s a paid position, you’d be working under me. And if you choose to accept, NYU will pay for you to attend their graduate school.”

You jaw dropped, “You’re telling me I take this job, I can attend the graduate film school for free?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded. “What do you think?”

“I—“ you stuttered. “What do I think? I think it’s amazing! Thank you so much!” You pulled her into an excited hug. “Um, when do I have to decide?” 

“You don’t have to decide until graduation. But, the sooner, the better.”

You nodded, “Okay. Okay, I’ll get back to you.”

The first person you told was Claire. She jumped up and down in your dressing room, squealing with you. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! [y/n], this is huge! This is huger than huge! We gotta celebrate. Go find Matthew, we’re going out for drinks.” 

The three of you went out to a bar, and Claire proposed a toast to you. “To our superstar, [y/n], the baddest bitch, the best ballerina, and soon to be assistant—“

“Hey, Matthew,” you interrupted her, turning to Matthew. “Do you want to go to Los Angeles this spring break?”

“LA?” he replied. 

“Yeah, Claire and I are going. We want you to come.” You nodded, cutting your eyes at Claire. She was eyeing you suspiciously. 

“Claire’s okay third wheeling? I mean, you and I kind of come as a package.”

“Well, Claire’s, uh, bringing a friend.” 

Matthew looked at Claire, his arm tight around you. “Really?” He said. “Nice. Do I know him?”

“Yeah,” Claire and you said at the same time. “You do.”

Claire slapped your shoulder once you two got home. “Ow!” You winced.

“Why didn’t you tell Matthew?” She snapped.

“Tell Matthew what?”

“Everything! About LA, Roni, your job offer?” 

You sighed, “I’m going to tell him. Just not tonight.”

Or the night after that. Or the night after that. Or the night after that. 

Matthew didn’t know about Roni until the four of you met at the airport. Awkward doesn’t begin to sum it up. Matthew and Veronica didn’t talk at all. They only acknowledged you, Claire, and other friends, never each other. You didn’t bother asking Matthew what was up, but Claire filled you in. The last split had been bad. It was easier on them now that Matthew and you were...whatever you were. And Claire and Veronica were doing their own thing.

The group of you walked around like typical tourists. It was your first time in California, and you loved every second of it. Matthew and you stuck together like peas in a pod. He showed you around, paid for your dinners, held your hand. He was a perfect gentleman.

Until he got you into bed. Then he was the same old, horny Matthew. He wore you out with a bunch of orgasms. First, sliding underneath the covers and eating you, gripping your thighs, humming against you. Then, he used his cock to fuck you until your legs turned to jello and you came twice. When he told you to get on all fours, you froze.

“Okay, dude,” you giggled. “You have never lasted this long. Ever. What was in your drink tonight?”

“Viagra,” he said simply.

“Yeah, right,” you rolled onto your stomach. When Matthew stayed silent, you turned your head to face him. “Wait. Deadass?”

He laughed, “Yeah, me and some of the guys bought some as a joke. But I took one and now the little guy won’t go down.” 

You glanced down at his rock hard dick, your jaw dropped. You shook your head at him, and placed yourself on all fours, arching your bed into the mattress. “You’re insane, Matthew Gray Gubler.” You giggled.

“Fuck, you didn’t have to say my whole name,” he laughed. He slapped your ass lightly and knelt behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. 

“Why not—ah!” You were cut off by the sensation of him pushing into you. “I—I like Matthew Gray Gubler. Good, strong name.”

“Yeah?” He bit down on his lip, taking long, slow strokes in and out of you. “I like the way you say it.”

“I like...when you pound me.” You whispered, a sly smile on your face. 

He said nothing, just slammed himself into you. Over and over, until you were trembling and gasping. “Fuck,” you huffed, biting down on the pillow. He watched you writh beneath him, held your hips as you pushed yourself back on his cock. Your bodies moved in perfect unison with one another, and it was so good for both of you, even Matthew viagra-boy Gubler was nearing his orgasm. 

He reached around and rubbed on your clit, making sure to keep up his rhythm. You held onto his wrist tightly, calling out his name and beginning to melt into the mattress. You eagerly pushed your ass back, trying to get him as deep inside of you as possible, and make yourself come. Matthew placed sloppy kisses between your shoulder blades. 

“Come on, princess, come on,” he whispered. 

You fell helpless against the bed, your toes curled, your mouth was wide open. He licked the sweat off of your skin and it sent you over the edge. Your pussy tightened around him, and his finished you off with one final thrust. He followed right behind you, finally releasing himself, loudly, into the condom.

Yes, condoms. They’re your new best friend. 

Matthew held you against his chest, the two of you entangled in a soft cuddle session. He kissed your forehead, “My dick’s still hard.” He told you.

You burst out laughing, “Oh, God. Dumb boy, silly boy.” 

“Hey, [y/n]?” He called. 

You looked up at him, “Yes?” 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, but I just want you to listen. Just hear me out.” 

You sat up, nervous already. “Yeah?”

He sighed, “Okay,” he whispered to himself. “Okay. When I went out with the guys, we obviously got y’know condoms, viagra—“

“The essentials,” you shrugged.

“Right. But we also went to this film expo. And we’re just walking around, looking for jobs and...this modeling agent walks up to me. Tells me I’m very handsome, duh, and that I, uh, should come work for them.” 

You tilted your head at him, a smug smile on your face. “Modeling, huh?”

“Yeah...yeah...it’s legit. And if I take it, it’ll finally be my chance.”

“Chance to what?” You asked.

“To move to LA.”

You sat back, shocked at his words. “Hey, hey, don’t freak out on me,” he said. “Because that’s not all.”

“Oh?” Your voice came out small, weak.

“Yeah...I, um...I—“ he stuttered. “I want you to come with me.”

Talk about a double shot. You sat in utter surprise, your mouth opened slightly, your body numb. “Come...with...you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Let’s just do it. After graduation, you and I, on a plane, going to live in Los Angeles. How does that sound?” 

You stared at him for a long time, “That...that sounds...perfect, actually.”

“But..?”

You shook your head, “No but...let’s do it.”

Matthew broke out into a huge, bright smile, “Holy shit! Really? Really?”

“Really.”

He tackled you onto the bed, both of you erupting into a fit of laughter and joy. “[y/n]...” he whispered.

You looked him in the eye, your thumb tracing his jaw. “Yeah?”

He stared at you, sighed, and leaned in to kiss you. Softly, gently, sweetly. “My dick’s still hard,” he mumbled.

You didn’t tell Claire until after spring break. It was an accident really. She caught you cruising LA apartments online, and you cracked. Spilled the truth.

“Are you...” Claire started. “Are you dumb?”

“I—“

“[y/n], you can’t move to LA with him. You will regret that shit. You’ll end up pregnant for real, he’ll leave, and you’ll be on your own.”

“Claire, what the fuck?”

“Well, it’s true! Matthew’s not even your boyfriend—“

“Stop!” You shouted. “I don’t want to argue! I don’t wanna fight with you! I love you, Claire! But I love Matthew, too, and I want to be with him!”

Holy shit. Did you just...you did. You said you loved Matthew. Out loud. And you meant every word. 

All of your attention left Claire, and you simply continued your apartment search. You spent that night at Matthew’s, cuddled up and showing him your favorite affordable places. It felt right. Real. Being in his arms, planning a future with him. 

Right. Real.

Claire swallowed her tongue a lot on the subject. She had her opinion, she made it clear. But she didn’t want to spend your last year together in a fight. So, you both ignored the situation. Even when you began to pack up your room. Even when Matthew sent you your plane ticket. Even when the future became painfully clear. 

You stuck together all of graduation day. You partied the night before, had a small movie marathon, and fell asleep on the couch. Your families harassed you two with cameras and orders and their sheer excitement bouncing everywhere. 

You did it.

After four long years, you had your degree. Holding it was everything you imagined and more. And as you wandered through the crowd, you came face to face with the best thing NYU had brought you: Matthew Gray Gubler. 

The two of you smiled at each other across the courtyard, and subsequently ran into each others arms. Matthew picked you up and spun you around in your cap and gown. 

“We did it!” He exclaimed. 

“We sure did, and fashionably, too!” You giggled. 

Matthew pulled you into a steamy kiss, one that nearly made you entirely weak in the knees. “Tomorrow morning,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I will be in that airport, waiting for you.”

“I’ll be there,” you smiled. 

The next day, you woke up promptly at 7 o’clock in the morning. Your bags were packed, locked, and ready to go. So were you. You hopped up out of bed, dolled yourself up. You took one last look at the room you were leaving behind. And you left. 

You arrived at the airport at eight, after getting some breakfast and saying goodbye to a few friends. You saw the plane. 

You sat outside of the airport, on the bare grass, suitcases at your side. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you saw the aircraft rise into the sky. And something in your stomach told you that he was on it. That, in another life, you would’ve been on it, too.

You sighed, followed by another slow breath.

“Goodbye, Matthew.” 

#mine #esny #college!matthew #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg #mgg smut #mgg imagine

[ssamie]

six. she likes someone else, idiot.

oikawa tooru x fem langa!reader

(hq x sk8 the infinity)

warnings: spelling mistakes, swearing, 2k+ words, u have langa’s blue hair sorry 

gen masterlist.            “snow” masterlist.

"as promised, here we are" oikawa greeted her as she opened the door to reveal him and iwaizumi. "good morning " she greeted them with a bubbly smile "hey" iwaizumi nodded at her. 

"oh, you're not skating today, y/n-chan?" oikawa hummed "well, i don't want to accidentally leave you behind again" she said as she closed the door behind her. oikawa sweat dropped and nodded along "how thoughtful" he chuckled 

"here's your coffee, oikawa-san" she had a determined look on her face as she hands him the beverage in a disposable cup

"oh... yes.. my coffee" oikawa deeply inhaled a breath of air and took it from her. "thank you, y/n-chan. i didnt think you were serious about it, though" oikawa laughed as he took a sip of the coffee 

"oh, well i thought you'd be bummed if i forgot a promise" she said 

as soon as she looked away, oikawa gagged and shuddered, making iwaizumi sweat drop and look at him in concern. "dude what the hell?" iwaizumi deadpanned 

as y/n looked back at them, oikawa's dread filled expression quickly changed into one of delight as he happily chugged down the drink 

"haha, i was just amazed at this coffee!" oikawa exclaimed with a grin "and y/n-chan made it so its extra special!" 

"oh, that's great!" y/n cheered as oikawa gave her a thumbs up paired with a wink "im glad you like it" 

"yup! looking forward to the next one tomorrow" oikawa chuckled 

iwaizumi watched the whole thing go down with a look of bewilderment. he was just about done with these two and their shenanigans. "dude.." iwaizumi muttered as he watched oikawa gulp the whole thing down "why're you doing this.."

oikawa turned to him with a grin and clocked his head to the side "what do you mean, iwa-chan?" he asked "i told you, y/n-chan made it so its extra special!" oikawa said with a laugh as he threw the cup away at a random trash can

iwaizumi's eyes widened as he watched his friend jog over to the girl and happily start up a conversation 

"jesus christ.." iwaizumi sighed "i don't know if him being like this is a good thing or not.." 

now, its no secret that y/n was attractive. her features were head turning. and her eyes alone could bring a grown man to their knees. she was quite captivating, to say the least. 

so it shouldn't come as a surprise if boys and girls start flocking around her for the same purpose. 

to have her as their girlfriend. what else? 

"hey, hasegawa-chan" a boy greeted her as she exited the classroom. "oh. hello.." she replied with a hint of confusion 

"are you free today? if you want, i would love to treat you to some snacks after school" the boy said with a nervous chuckle. "oh, thank you but.. i have club duties after school." she said "maybe some other time" 

she then walked away from the boy, absolutely clueless to the fact the she was just asked out on a date. 

from inside the room, oikawa watched the whole thing go down with a look of distaste. "hey, hey, iwa-chan!" he slapped iwaizumi's arm. "that boy just flirted with y/n-chan, look!" 

iwaizumi spared him a glance before looking back down at his comic. "i know, shittykawa." he sighed "its no big deal anyways. she declined, didn't she?" he said 

"it doesn't matter! people are trying to steal her before i could even exit the friend zone!" oikawa exclaimed "actually, im not sure if im even in the friend zone yet!" he pulled at his hair in distress 

"i told her we'd be best friends in the future but that means we're not right now, right?!" 

"you're thinking too much, shittykawa" iwaizumi sighed as he pushed him off his desk, since he was hitting his head repeatedly against the wood 

"im gonna follow her and shoo the boys away" oikawa perked up with a determined look on his face. "dont do that" iwaizumi grunted in annoyance. "and you look stupid. your forehead has a red spot now, dumbass" 

"actually, what if i ask her out before they do?" oikawa hummed thoughtfully to himself. 

"you did that already. didn't she say she has the 'boyfriend spot' reserved for someone?" iwaizumi raised a brow 

"whatever im gonna follow her" oikawa waved him off. "dont do that-- and he's gone." iwaizumi merely sighed as he watched oikawa rush out of the door 

"now.. who is that ugly guy?" oikawa muttered to himself as he watched a boy flusteredly hand y/n a letter 

"h-hasegawa-san..this is for you!" the boy exclaimed as he handed her the letter without making any eye contact. "oh.. its a letter" she muttered as she went to open it 

"no! uh- read it later when you're alone.." the boy stammered out "it's a bit embarrassing for me" he said. "oh, okay then" y/n simply nodded and put it in her pocket. "goodbye" she said as she walked away 

"right! bye, hasegawa-san!" the boy nervously waved 

oikawa sweat dropped as the boy looked at her with a lovesick grin even though she just straight up ignored him and walked off. well it's not like he has room to say anything. he's the exact same, if not, maybe even worse. 

"tch. hey" oikawa called out to the boy. 

"me..?" the boy muttered in confusion as he pointed to himself. "yeah you" oikawa raised a brow as he judgingly looked him up and down "why'd you give y/n-chan a letter?" he scowled 

"oh well i -" before the boy could finish oikawa laughed at him in a mocking way. "yeah yeah, save your voice. it's not like i'll listen to you anyways" he said with his usual charismatic smile 

"but don't do that again, okay~" oikawa cooed "y/n-chan doesn't need a boy toy like you! but maybe try with another girl!" he suggested 

he patted the boy's shoulder and waved him goodbye "good luck~" he cooed. the boy watched oikawa walk off with a look of dread and confusion. "what the hell, man?" the boy muttered 

"now, where is she-- another one?!" oikawa groaned to himself as he watched y/n receive another gift 

except this time, it was a from a girl in the first year who was shakingly handing her a bento with a cutesy note "hasegawa-senpai..! um- this is for you" the girl said as she shyly presented her the neatly wrapped lunch box 

"i made it myself, i hope you like it!" she said with a bow before hastily running off with an alarmingly red face. "..?" y/n cocked her head to the side as she waved the girl goodbye "thank you..?" she muttered 

she opened the bento slightly and gasped in awe at the food 

"no! don't be swayed by the food, y/n-chan!" oikawa silently screamed to himself "its a trick!" 

y/n then closed it and continued to walk away.

"yes! she wasn't swayed by the food. that was close" oikawa let out a sigh if relief as he placed his hand over his pounding chest. "maybe i should cook her food from now on" he muttered as he took a mental note for future use. 

"now--" before he could move another inch, he was suddenly crowded by girls that came out of nowhere. literally. 

"oikawa-senpai!" "oikawa-senpai, we made you a bento!" "oikawa-san i made you cookies, see?" "oikawa-san let's hang out!" 

"ah, hey there girls~" he cooed at them. as much as he wanted to leave them, he couldn't just ignore his fan girls. as annoying as they were, they were still his supporters after all. 

"oikawa-san, are you practicing later? can we watch?" "we'll bring you snacks during practice!" "i'll cheer for you, oikawa-senpai!" 

it had been roughly five minutes since the girls arrived. and it had also been five minutes since he's lost sight of y/n. oikawa was starting to get antsy. his sole purpose was to shoo her admirers away and yet he was being bombarded by his own. 

suddenly, the blue hue which he seemed to grow so fond of caught his eye. he turned to look at her, walking so casually while she frowns down at a piece of paper in her hands 

"y/n! -" sadly his voice was drowned out by the shouts and squeals of the girls, although the noise still got her attention 

y/n looked up to see the brunette waving at her with a girl latched onto his other arm. and being the clueless one that she is, she simply waved back with a smile before walking away 

"that might be the girl he liked.." she muttered with a hum. "he mentioned it at the park that night.." 

"ack! she wasn't jealous at all!" oikawa spluttered with a gasp 

"oikawa-san what are you talking about?" "do you like someone?" "what?! oikawa-senpai, you like someone?!" 

oikawa waved them off and hastily ran after the blue haired girl. "y/n-chan!" oikawa exclaimed as he slammed their classroom door open 

y/n, along with the rest of the class looked over to him in confusion. ".. yes?" y/n replied "ah sorry" he sent the class a peace sign before rushing over to her side 

"i was gonna ask --did  anything interesting happen just now?" he mused with a huff "did ya maybe get something from someone..?" 

oikawa, bless his heart, was trying to be as discreet as he possibly could. though it's not like he has to try since she was probably as dumb as a rock when it comes to shit like this. 

"oh.. i got a letter and a gift" she said as she shuffled through her bag for the said things 

oikawa dramatically cried in his mind as he looked away from her. "she has no shame! so she really doesn't care about my feelings!" he muttered to himself in distress 

"its this." she said 

oikawa reluctantly faced her with a furrowed brows and quivering lips, ready to throw the love letter and bento away. that is, until he actually saw what the 'letter' and 'gift' was. 

"uh what is this?" oikawa sweat dropped as he pointed to the pair of school shoes and a note from the dean. 

y/n sulked as she reluctantly started removing her converse. "i got in trouble today" she said "apparently, im not allowed to wear these" she said as she stuffed her shoes in her bag and slipped the school shoes on 

"well yeah, everyone knows that" iwaizumi sweat dropped. "then how am i gonna skate?" she faced them with exaggeratedly teary eyes as she uncomfortably moved her feet about 

"guess you're gonna have to make do with that" iwaizumi comforted her 

"is that all you got?" oikawa asked again 

"oh. i actually got a love letter and a bento. but that's about it" she casually replied 

oikawa gave her a painfilled smile and a thumbs up. "ah. i see." he grimly replied. "well.. aren't ya gonna give them a response?" oikawa asked followed by a strained laugh 

"i can't.." she mumbled with slight embarrassment 

"why not?" iwaizumi asked 

"i can't read it.." she admitted, her face gradually getting hotter and hotter from shame 

"what?" 

"i can't read it!" she covered her face with her hands "japanese is still hard for me! i can only understand certain parts!" 

"and i also ate the bento because i was tempted!" she confessed 

oikawa and iwaizumi sweat dropped and nodded along. "i see.." oikawa laughed 

"well it's no problem" he said. "you can choose not to respond. you're not really obligated to, anyways." 

"really? that's great!" she perked up. "i didn't know what to do anyway" she chuckled "i could only understand parts of the letter cus i wrote it for reki!" she said 

"im glad im not stuck in that pinch anymore.." she sighed in relief "im not used to people liking me.." 

iwaizumi watched as oikawa's face visibly fell at the mention of the redhead's name. his already pained smile quickly turned into a frown. 

"y/n-chan! can you come here for a sec?" one student called for her "oh sure." y/n replied before quickly making her way to them 

oikawa pouted and trudged over to his seat, plopping himself down on the chair and resting his head on the desk with a huff 

"so, what'll you do now?" iwaizumi asked as he glanced at his friend "dunno" oikawa replied 

"hey iwa-chan. am i ugly?" he asked. "i was gonna say yes but that'll be too mean at the moment. so no, shittykawa. you're not." iwaizumi replied with a sigh as he put his comic away 

"is that reki guy hotter than me?" he asked again. "i dunno, dude" iwaizumi shrugged "i mean, probably." 

"do ya think i have a chance? i mean, i always get with girls so easily!" oikawa huffed. iwaizumi rolled his eyes and hit him on the head with his fist. "wanna know why you don't got a chance, shittykawa?" he said 

"ouch -- yeah sure, enlighten me, iwa-chan" oikawa replied with a wince 

"its cus she likes someone else, idiot." 

oikawa rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his hand, watching y/n converse with another student from across the room 

"just how amazing is this reki guy anyway?" 

"I HAVE 40, 000 YEN AND A SKATEBOARD!" reki exclaimed as he slammed the money and the board down before cherry "IS THIS ENOUGH TO VISIT Y/N, CHERRY?!" he asked with an excited smile 

"for a plane ticket!" reki replied "do ya think if i sell this skateboard i'd get at least a thousand yen?" he asked 

cherry sweat dropped and pushed the things away. "what is this for?" he asked with furrowed brows 

cherry watched the boy fuss with a smile of amusement, chuckling lightly to himself as reki starts listing down the jobs he's done for the money. "a plane ticket costs roughly 15 thousand to 30 thousand yen. with your budget now, you won't be able to afford a trip back home" cherry explained 

"whaaa?" reki groaned out "then i have to work more? but thats so boring! i haven't skated in forever for this!" he whined 

cherry patted his back as the redhead sulked. "don't worry, we'll be going with you anyways" he said "you can borrow money from the gorilla" cherry suggested with a smile 

"why not from you?" reki raised a brow. "because i don't want to." cherry replied 

reki sweat dropped but nodded anyways. he gathered the money and the skateboard before running on his way over to joe's restaurant. 

"JOE HELP!!" reki exclaimed as he slammed the restaurant doors open. "yo, what the hell?!" joe yelled back as he watched reki rush over to him and cling on his arm with a cutesy pout 

"hey hey, joe~" reki cooed "can i borrow money from you? i can right? right? great!" he exclaimed "i'll need 20 000 yen atleast!" reki said with a grin as he held his hands out expectantly 

joe spluttered as he stared down at the redhead. "hey, who said i'll give you money?" he scowled 

"cherry did!" reki exclaimed 

"kaoru.." joe muttered through gritted teeth. "that damn brat." he sighed. "whatever. i'll give ya money." he said. "it's to see y/n right? we've been planning on visiting soon anyway" 

"really?! great! can i have it now-" reki was cut off by joe's laughter. "no, no" joe cooed

"you're gonna have to work for it" he smirked as he pulled out an apron and a menu and shoved it into the redhead's arms. reki's expression morphed into one of dread as he held the apron against his body ".. am i supposed to be a waiter?" he groaned out 

"you're a smart one, aren't ya?" joe said in a teasing tone 

"but why do i have to work?" reki whined. "oh, cmon! it's for y/n, don't ya care about her?" joe taunted him 

reki sent him a glare and reluctantly put the apron on. "for y/n.. sure" he muttered with a blush of embarrassment as joe started ruffling his hair like a child

"hey, joe.." reki trailed off "if i have to work.. the shouldn't he be working too?!" he shrieked out as he pointed to miya who was quietly sitting by a booth. "hah?!" miya exclaimed "i actually have money, unlike you, you slime!" he yelled 

"how?! you're thirteen!" reki shrieked out 

"and you're seventeen but poor! shut up and take my order, slime!" miya hissed back at him 

"i hate you!" reki hissed back "im not letting you near y/n after this, just so you know" he said. miya simply rolled his eyes and huffed. "shut up, slime. i want a drink." he said 

"you shut up" reki muttered back in annoyance, but quickly wrote the order down anyways 

"haha, keep this up and you'll see y/n in no time!" joe cheered as he patted reki's back. "why can't you just give me money, dude?" reki groaned 

joe laughed and sent him a cheeky wink "gotta milk the opportunity, you know?" he mused 

"so you're just using me!!" 

ppl r asking for them to see y/n skate,, dw that's coming soon haha,, and reki and the others are also appearing soon :) 

"exactly!" 

sorry for the spelling / grammar mistakes if there are any :<

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #hq x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyu x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru x reader #reki kyan x y/n #reki kyan x you #reki x langa #langa hasegawa #sk8 infinity #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 x reader #seijoh x you #seijoh x manager #aoba johsai #oikawa tooru x y/n #miya chinen x reader #haikyuu tooru #tooru x y/n

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 3

Hey there! Thank you for taking the time to read this

There are so many left out details here that I did on purpose for future explanation within the fic for the element of mystery I'm trying to brew . Hope you don't mind! Enjoy reading❤

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

1.7k words.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury and fighting.

*

Without thinking, I drove my fist towards the voice, regretting it the instant I recognized who it was.

Tai'chi.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found my fist encased in his hand. He seems unfazed by my reaction, seemingly expecting it.

“Oh shi— I’m so sorry!”

How the hell did he sneak up on me without making a sound??

“Feisty- I mean, I should be the one sorry, for startling you...And for following you. I just wanted to, make sure you were alright.”

I blinked. He was concerned?

He spoke up when I didn’t respond.

“So, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. Just, disappointed.” I breathed in and sighed as he gently let go of my fist.

Oh, and his scent helps right now. He smells so...wonderful I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve been surrounded by disgusting odors my entire life. I swear I’ve inhaled appealing scents like lilac, sandalwood, cinnamon, even rain has its particular smell! But Tai'chi, he—he’s something else entirely.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else like, I don’t know, maybe getting lunch with some of your friends or in a classroom?” I asked. I wonder why he would even bother to be in my presence. Anyone should be creeped out by the way I spoke up earlier. I mean, who does that? Plus, I did throw a stranger down to the floor. But part of me knows he deserved that.

Definitely.

“Want to talk about it?” He ignored my question. Tai'chi was now sitting cross-legged beside me, the oak’s root in between us. His deep azure eyes studying, watching me carefully.

“What?”

“What you did back there, wasn’t something a plain, timid college girl would do.”

Wait. He knew I was pretending to be one?

“Yes, I knew.”

“You can read minds?!” I stammered out. He can read my mind this whole time?! Shit.

He held up for a second before a boisterous laugh broke out of him and echoed through the circling trees, scaring away some birds perched above. I don’t know if I should be offended or flustered by his guffaw. It was so, so deep and rich and —

What the hell Pearl? What if he's reading your mind??

Tai'chi faced me again, sighing once he calmed down.

“To answer your question, no, I can’t read minds. But like I stated before, your face gives it away. Or your brows since you’re wearing a mask, but I can imagine your expression.”

I let out an incomprehensible noise.

“How did you find out I was pretending to be…you know,” waving my hands around.

“The moment we made eye contact this morning when you entered. And the way you shifted your body at the last second to prevent yourself from plunging into the trash bin, I knew you were something more. Your eyes and your actions show your experience in combat. A skilled warrior would notice these little things right away.”

My jaw fell open, and I’m sure he knows. He left me speechless.

Should I tell him I am a trained martial artist and a weapon wielder?

But we just met like 5 hours ago!

He seems trustworthy. And he’s an orc, didn’t they have a code of honor or something?

My thoughts ran wild I swear Tai'chi could hear my mind, screaming.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t wish to. And I must’ve sounded, creepy when I admitted I’ve been observing you. But before anything else, will you allow me to introduce myself, for real this time?”

“You mean your name isn’t Tai'chi?”

Letting out a chuckle, he replied, “I swear to you, my name is Tai'chi. What I mean is, I want you to know my full name. Do you understand what this implies, Pearl?”

I racked my brain for a moment, trying to recall what my parents said about orc traditions when my uncle, papa’s brother, married the orcess he fell in love with. Something about an orc’s real name being reserved only to those they’re close to?

“I guess so? But what exactly?”

“I want to become your friend.”

I couldn’t help the slight warmth creeping into my cheeks behind my mask. He can’t see it, can he? A friend, he says. A friend!

“Oh,” was all that came out. A pause and;

“Uh, I mean, I’d love to be your friend! I never had an actual friend before. I mean, have cousins, but we aren’t acquainted enough to consider myself their friend— I mean— uh, what should I do?” I blurted out a little rapidly.

He smiled. He actually smiled! Oh, damn, it was adorable!

Tai'chi was about to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut and grimaced. I was confused by his sudden change of mood, along with his scent.

Then it struck me.

The two of us shot up when multiple smells filled the air, making my stomach clench.

We were followed, not just one but six individuals. One of them was the pretentious human from earlier.

My day can’t get any better. And is that a baseball bat? Great. Fucking great.

I swear. I’m cursed to find trouble anywhere I go.

“Hello, freaks.” The guy in the middle began. “Whatcha doin’ out here in the forest?”

The others began spreading out and surrounded us.

“Planning something nasty I bet.” A human to my right spat.

“You will pay for what you did to me, you bitch. Just so you know, my father is the dean of this university. No one will ever hear a word of what I did here and what we will do to you.

'Dean’s son, David Silverstone, assaulted by an insane student in the woods within campus grounds. His friends graciously helping him fight off the lunatic until she passed out and was carried to an isolation chamber for monitoring, later finding out about her severe psychological disorder.’ Now wouldn’t that be a hit in the papers!” The bastard and his companions cackled and snickered, some of them stealing glances between my legs and I felt my skin crawl.

Tai'chi growled lowly, silencing them for a brief moment. He was getting mad but held his ground.

“And you,” the human pointed, “you beast. It won’t be hard antagonizing you, people will no doubt believe you were the one who violated the schoolgirl and left her in the woods to die.”

This fucking—

I felt a hand on my shoulder just as I was about to start, gently gripping, in hopes of trying to calm me down. He knows they were baiting us on making the first move. He shook his head, and an idea popped up.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to make my voice as girly as possible, sounding so hilarious, like those overdressed, flashy high school girls with flowery perfume so strong I wrenched every time I get a whiff of it.

Provoking them would do.

“Oh, I’m so scared! Should I get on my knees and beg for mercy? Oh please, great and noble one, have mercy on my poor soul.” My voice laced with mockery and sadness, with my legs fake trembling and my arms flailing.

And did Tai'chi just snort?

“If you beg nicely, I will perhaps give you a chance to— ”

My sudden wheezing interrupted him and I laughed. Hard. I can���t believe he bought my terrible acting! I expected him to straight-up be offended rather than actually bite the false bait. He is dumber than I thought.

I was holding my middle by the time I was done. Tai'chi’s shoulders were moving slightly, probably chuckling and trying to hold back his amusement.

“Did you honestly take it seriously??? I can't— oh my God!” I choked out once more before I went on.

“There’s no chance in hell I’m gonna bow to you, not even one degree of an angle, you foolish, idiotic, spoiled, bastardized son of a bitch.”

His face was turning red out of rage and oh! Wasn’t that a sight to behold?

“You brat!” Turning his head to the others, he yelled, “What are guys standing there for?! Get them!”

Good.

Perhaps they didn’t catch my hands slipping on my beloved crimson knuckle dusters out of the bag when I was laughing then, tugging down my hoodie’s sleeve to hide it.

“Don’t move.” I told the orc, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“But—”

“Just don’t.” I said with my voice firm. I will take them on my own. I can’t have him getting in trouble and people blaming him for being an orc. Imagine that. The ones who attacked him will be viewed as victims because they were up against him, an orc. Numerous humans will jump at the chance to throw dirt at their race, a single act of self-defense treated as a one-sided assault to humans, the thought of it being enough to somehow remove all of them from the city, but everyone knows it's not that simple. Dimwits.

I strode forward without earning his response, waiting for the first person to come at me.

I took my stance, although it was more of preparing half of my body since I was still hiding both of my hands.

They all seemed confused and hesitant, which was what I was going for. To me, and those with experience in hand-to-hand combat, this is one of the most basic stances, but fundamental, nonetheless. A simple form that can determine the outcome of a fight. With my right foot forward, left foot back, both firmly planted to the ground, and my dominant hand wearing my dusters. In their eyes, it was…wrong, foreign. Some may even say it’s an open vulnerability, showing how inexperienced the opponent is, but oh, it is the exact opposite.

I didn’t see Tai'chi’s expression, though. I was on alert and getting into my zone to peer at him, one motion that can put me in a compromising position. Did he notice my brass knuckles? Likely.

“Scared to hurt a little girl like me?” I enticed.

Finally, the one beside their alleged leader charged at me.

A typical amateur approach.

The guy, about two inches taller than me, threw a right punch, which was a huge mistake.

Predictable.

I smirked under my mask and dodged it not a second before it connected. Making him falter as I grabbed his arm and brought it down to my knee, dislodging his joints.

A high-pitched scream of pain broke out of him as he dropped down on the forest ground, gripping his bent-off arm, cursing, but refused to rise and fight me again.

I gave him one last glance before I looked back at the others.

“Who’s next?”

****************************************

Those human shits just can't leave them alone! Interrupting their supposed-to-be official introduction! There's more to the orc that meets the eye *wink* Who is he exactly? Why was he so... observant?

Part 4 is actually on its third revising— and I'm still trying to come up on HOW to phrase my next words to lead to part 5. I let me brain take a break from spewing senseless words for now so I'll probably post the next part of this later or tomorrow

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! And I'd appreciate it if you have some advice for me, or just point out some mistakes I made! Thank you

Ps. This is really not perfect formal writing if you're wondering. I just type away whatever comes into my mind, and then proofread it to the best I can. And I hope you don't mind me using a lot of spaces. It... sort of makes my mind clear and continue moving forward, and it helps me when I'm reading it again, mentally taking note that with every line between spaces there's a slight pause and again, read it clearly like you were the one thinking it. I don't know how to explain how my own brain works but I guess that's that?

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

#orc #orc x reader #fiction #original work #my writing #orc x human #monster x human #exophilia #orc lover #oc #orc boyfriend #slow burnnnnnn #i think #happy holidays! #monster boyfriend #badass fem lead #bamf! #terato #monster lover #terato writing #art #monster x reader #monster romance